August 2009
4 posts
A Christmas Poem/By Art Hyde
A Christmas Poem
Years are packaged in months, days, hours and minutes.
Who is to say that time is a given?
Perhaps the lone snowflake that falls on a child’s eyelash for the first time, then produces a smile or a chuckle, is a memory so precious that it becomes the foundation of a life.
A memory lost in time but so wonderful that it some how shapes a personality with warmth and honesty.
So much...
My Wife - By Art Hyde
My Wife
A paradox did He create,
of love so precious that it pains the heart,
yet continually yearns for more.
Where can a man find greater joy,
than from his lover’s touch,
to fall helplessly deep into her eyes,
to bask in the warmth of her caress.
It is not the reward of friend or
life’s great treasure that makes me swell,
but her, my wife,
and her soft whisper that speaks my name,
and causes...
A Son - By Art Hyde
My son is precious,
full of hope, yet sorrow.
My son is me,
relived with all I’ve grown to be.
By my mistakes and triumphs,
we share our future’s destiny.
I proudly watch him live each day,
less to compare him as I see.
He steps away,
then back once more,
to take another look at me.
Standing near in silence,
watching invisibly,
I see this man has grown with talent,
home at last –...