Love,
Laughter & Tears
Selected Poems - By Virginia Haefner Wark

 

THE LOOM OF LIFE

Life is like a tapestry,
Each thread a vital part.
If woven very carefully
It becomes a work or art.

The red threads, they’re our passions,
The purple threads, our pains,
The black threads, they’re our losses,
And the green threads, there our gains.


The pink threads, they’re our laughter,
The blue threads, they’re our fears,
The brown threads, they’re our labor,
And the yellow threads, our tears.

We must weave our white threads tightly
For their faith in God above,
And interlace them patiently
With the golden threads of love.

If we weave our threads real wisely,
Come the day our works must cease,
The King will truly treasure
His Servant’s Masterpiece.

Published in the American Poetry Anthology-1992 Edition

The Family

"Why do you have so many children,"
People often ask?
I suppose they really see it
As a pretty awesome task.

But when they ask this question,
We just take it all in stride.
"I guess we're just plain lucky,"
We answer, full of pride.

Each child is someone special...,
All bring blessings of their own.
When others starve from loneliness,
We never feel alone.

It's true, God never blessed us
With fortune or with fame,
But our wealth lies in our family
And the honor of our name.

We all laugh and cry together,
And in unity, we thrive.
We share each other's happiness,
Yet, in sorrow, still survive.

So, if fortune should forsake us,
And when funds seem all too slim,
It's the love of a man's family
that sustains the soul within
A House / A Home

A house may be a castle,
With many rooms and halls,
Or a simple shack of straw and clay,
With nothing but four walls.

A house is a place to hang your hat...,
A shelter from the storm...,
A place to rest your head at night...,
A place to keep you warm.

But, a home is something different,
Whether built of stone or tin.
It matter not how big or small,
If LOVE resides within.

For home is "where the heart is..."
Though far our feet may roam,
No greater place in all the world,
Is the HOUSE that we call HOME!
 		 No Beauty Like a Mother's

How does one paint a portrait, true,
The beauty that I see in you?
Your eyes, now deep and dimmed with age,
That saw me through each growing stage...,
That watched me take each careful step...,
And when I fell, they also wept...,
And when there seemed no one in sight,
I felt them watching, day and night.

How does one capture hands by brush...,
Their gentle stroke and loving touch?
Or tell their tale of life-long toil...,
The hands that washed the clothes I soiled...,
The hands that dried my many tears,
And stroked my brow to ease my fears.

How does one paint those frail thin lips,
Of which a thousand times I've kissed....,
That spoke such needed words of praise...,
That saw me through such trying days...,
That softly kissed my cheek at night,
And stilled my fears 'till morning light?

How does one paint your spirit strong,
Or sketch your loving heart's sweet song?
In truth, I say, "No artist's brush
Could paint the Mom, I love so much!"

Above Poems Written by Virginia Haefner Wark

©2006 Virginia Haefner Wark.  All rights reserved.  Do not copy without written consent from Virginia Haefner Wark.  Contact Virginia.

Memories | The Prime Of My Life | Love Laughter & Tears | The Sun Will Rise Again | Though The Eyes Of A Blind Man | A Mothers Dread | Our Season Of Love | God's Greatest Gift | The Widow's Braids | My Brother John | Love And Roses | Our Guardian Angel | The Comic | Gossip | The Day The Towers Fell