Ingrids Auswahl - Ingrids Poetry (90)

Joy

True joy will only be found

Beyond the gates of death

Freedoms portals may be walked

Beyond our tears and stress

Enduring loss, grief and pain

Will some sweet day be joys refrain?

Ingrids Auswahl - Ingrids Poetry (89)

The Door

So close to that mysterious door

Fear bids the soul to enter in.

Death is not foe, but friend!

Don’t linger take his hand.

For beyond that secret door

You will find that blissful shore.

Where all pains all sorrows flee.

Happy there your soul will be.

Go my friend, don’t look behind.

Glory land you there will find.

In your makers fond embrace,

Feel his love, behold his face.

There you will come to understand

Death is not foe

But loving friend.

The Stair

Oh dear, once again I stand,

Rail held tied in hand,

At the bottom of does dreaded stairs.

Wishing I was fit, young and fancy free

Like a little bird without a single care.

Wishing I could fly, or just go hop, hop,

Quickly from one stair unto another,

Now it’s plain to see for old folks like me

Climbing Stairs is really quiet a bother.

Now I would not mind, no! I would not care

Someone big and strong, hoist me up that stair.

Breezing out a sigh, think of years gone by,

When a favoured past time was to rock and roll.

When on mountain track weight down with a pack

All the rocks and boulders under firm control.

Oh! I had such fun when these knees were young,

Now the memories of the past just fill the soul.

But I must be fair, willingly declare

That it’s someone else’s turn to go and do

All the things of youth, whilst I face the truth

Standing at the bottom of does dreaded stairs.

Ingrids Auswahl - Ingrids Poetry (88)

Love is blind

I perceive it’s true indeed,

Little rhymes to wisdom lead

So here is one to understand,

One to share with you my friend.

When man’s stomachs cry out loud,

The head is wrapped into a shroud,

And when the head makes up its mind

The heart is left ten miles behind.

On top of that what do we find?

When men’s hearts rule,

The man turns blind.

Turn blind and jet more clearly see,

The way things really ought to be.

Turn blind to fear, to fault, to ill.

Turn blind to see more clearly still

To see the things but good and true,

Search for the very best in you.

To find all that is good and kind.

It’s good to know some men turn blind.

Let’s close the quest of where or when

Our God looks on the hearts of men

Ingrids Auswahl - Ingrids Poetry (87)

I have Looked

I have looked at this world

From within, from without,

The longer I look, the lesser the doubt,

That all of her beauty is like unto a shroud,

To hide the true purpose of life.

We hurry, we toil three score years and more,

To build up this sphere made of clay.

Where power and greed,

Unceasing strife

Are the forces which bar,

The narrow road to eternal life.

Ingrids Auswahl - Ingrids Poetry (86)

 

The final move

They have emptied the house, have swept every floor,

Then turned the key that locks the door,

Of this my home, for my time has come to move into a nursing home.

It’s time I heard the young folks say! that she is cared for day by day,

Where she is fed, where she is safe, dear Lord I wish it was my grave.

The children all are married now, with families of their own,

Moved far away and walk the streets of many a foreign town.

Goodbye to you old apple tree, your old and worn-out just like me,

We planted you the day we wed; A day this old heard won’t forget.

Together faced the storms of life, shared joy and laughter, pain and strife,

Suitcase all packed, one final walk past the old garden gate,

My treasures in a carboard box, they say we’re running late!

They say it’s all the best for me, they say I’m sure to find

New friends cause all the nurses there are always very kind,

 I’ll have a bed, my favourite chair,

My photographs, my book, the precious things I ones adored

The tide of life soon took, ah yes! dear Lord you blessed my life

In all the years gone by, I’ll stay until you call me home.

My hourglass runs dry.