Eternal Love

It was six months ago that I lost the love of my Life.  My husband Merrill passed away quietly at home on June 26 2013. Since then, I sold our home of 35 years and moved to a one level two bedroom two bathroom home that is easy for me to care for. It is in a lovely adult community that includes a clubhouse and an opportunity to meet new people and enjoy the many activities, 

There still isn't a day that goes by without shedding a tear.  But I am blessed with four children that give me great comfort.    They have been, and still are, with me every step of the way and I know this has been hard on them as well.  All we can do is love and comfort one another.

I have been diligently trying to put one foot in front of the other.  I dipped my toes into the water and hope to start a genealogy group next month within my new community.  The word is out and it appears that there is a genuine interest among many. I am hoping that will help me resume doing something I genuinely enjoyed and help heal the hole in my heart.

What brought me here today was remembering a poem I wrote years ago.  I would like to share it with you.  It is called.

Eternal Love

Yesterday our love was young

I think of all the songs we'd song

learning of each others ways

What happened to all those lovely days?

Today our love is deeper yet

since the first day that we met.

Four children now throughout the years

along with gladness and lots of tears.

Tomorrow our love grows stronger still

and every day still brings a thrill.

Alone again with memories past

and yet new journey's do we cast.

Into eternity my love went

oh how lonely my days are spent.

Wait for me, I'll join you soon there

our greatest love in heaven we'll share.



Mother's Day

Written by my mother, Elsie Louise Roesch Smith.    

To My Daughters On Mother's Day

Dedicated to Kathy, Sharon, Janine & Robin

Mother's Day 1989 

What better time than Mother's Day 

To express some thoughts I seldom say.

Four precious little girls, like peas in a pod,

Sent straight from heaven a gift from God

Rearing children is a lifetime process

But so rewarding is each small success.

Sometimes the end never seems in sight,

Then suddenly there you were, grown overnight.

Years of time and money spent, more than worth every cent.

"I wonder where that fanny-whacker went?"

Curls bouncing on little heads, secrets shared at night,

Nicknames given in love, Gram and Nannie's delight. 

A picnic, a trip to Cape Cod to see the ships,

A walk in the woods brought smiles to your lips.

I'd like to keep you forever but know that I can't,

Because for such a short time you were only lent.
The men that you married are wonderful as well,

I love them all dearly, Jeff, Tony, Victor and Mel.

How proud I am of you

In everything you say and do.

When your children are grown and you can see,

That they are everything you wanted them to be.

Good mates and parents loving and caring,

With wonderful memories for sharing,

The cycle us complete.

My grandchildren are surely blessed,

But I might as well confess,

That the luckiest person in the world is me,

Because I am your mother.

Love you Mom

"Lost Love"

I enjoyed writing "Forever Laced".  I also enjoy writing poetry, just as several of my ancestors did.  Perhaps I inherited the writing gene, I hope so. I'd like to share another poem with you.  I hope you enjoy it.

                                                                        "Lost Love"

by Kathryn smith Lockhard

If life had given me the right

to solely love you day and night,

I'd do my best in every way

to bring you happiness every day.

To share with you daily pleasures

that builds a life of happy treasures.

To be so close and yet apart,

twists and turns my paining heart.

I feel as if a fading rose,

our love on hold unable to grow.

It should mature with patience and time,

with sharing and giving that creates loves rhyme.

Promise me promises of days to be

when life can be just you and me.

Whisper words of future hope

so I can learn to live and cope.

I naught the right to dream such dreams;

life can be so cruel it seems.

We learn acceptance of cards life dealt;

to understand our feelings felt.

Be grateful in each other we found

love fulfilled with fantasies abound.

Tis hard to know of love so sweet,

is one I'll never know to keep.

"Prism"

I have been researching my ancestry since 2004.  It is amazing how much I have come to know them and yes, love them.  Many of my ancestors were writers and poets.  My 2nd great grandfather, Russell Cardey, a man of great faith wrote poems to express his religious beliefs.  My great grandfather, William Russell Roesch started a newspaper writing many articles on every topic and even a little poetry.  His son, and my grandfather, William Phillip Roesch also wrote articles for the newspaper. Later, another newspaper carried his tongue and cheek, sometimes humorous column titled, "Observations By An Observing Observer".  I will share some of their works another day.

The realization that perhaps I might have inherited just a little of their writing skills genes gives me great joy.  It validates that I am indeed a part of all who came before me. Previous poems I have shared with you are, "Reflections", "Perplexed" and  "Epitaph Nevermore."  I hope you enjoy "Prism".

PRISM

By Kathryn Smith Lockhard

I have a secret prism

that keeps my life aglow.

I need not see my prism

for it to bring me joy.

My prism shines a deep deep blue

that warms me through and through.

Quiet shades of green reveal

peace and solitude.

My eyes dance with laughter

when my prism beams of pink.

A color unbeknownst to me

is my favorite one I think.

White it overwhelms me

with passion and desire.

A yearning swells within me

and rages as a fire.

My prism now transforms to gold.

Life is a miracle I am told.

How wonderful the life I lead,

my loving you is all I need.

My prism once was naught,

but now shall always be.

I have a secret prism,

that's known to  only me.

Epitaph: "Nevermore"

In the early 1970's I worked for an Insurance Company.  We put out a monthly newsletter for our dozen or so salesmen to keep them abreast of product changes, personal employee announcements and to inspire and rally sales.

Our ancestors didn't have life insurance. Once widowed, women remarried to have a man provide for them by whatever means, and the men remarried to have someone cook, clean, sew and raise their children.  It was called survival.

 This was the very first poem I ever wrote.  Obviously I was inspired by Edgar Allen Poe.

Epitaph:  "Nevermore"

by Kathryn Smith Lockhard

I went tapping on your door

to protect your wife and son.

"I save my pennies one by one,"

quote the young man, nevermore.

I went tapping on your door

all for your financial cure.

"Can't afford it to be sure,"

quote the young man, nevermore.

I went tapping on your door
security worries love ones fear.

"Maybe one day end next year,"

quote the young man, nevermore.

I went tapping on your door

once again to make my plea.

Widow cried out, "Don't you see"

man to answer nevermore.

Perplexed

I wrote this poem during a period of writers block or what I call a brain freeze.  I hope you find it fun.

PERPLEXED

by kathryn smith lockhard

Front to back I read the dictionary,

only to surmise it was fictionary.

Truly it is a book of profusion,

for all it creates is complete confusion.

It takes a person with great fortitude,

to enjoy it with any magnitude.

For me to use again perchance,

lies strictly upon the circumstance.

My advise to you I do implore,

half the edition, please ignore.

Reflections

This poem, Reflections, is close to my heart and my blog is named for it.  It speaks of my feelings of the Indian River in Cocoa, Florida and of my emotions as I found my maternal Roesch family history.  The poem is listed at the end of my book, "Forever Laced".  I hope you enjoy it.

"Reflections"


By Kathryn Smith Lockhard

Quiet moments by the riverside reflect

to me my being.  Awoke did I this spring

aware of this existence within me.

Could I have been on that branch

wrapped in silk as if a cocoon?

Why have I slept so many a spring when

I find life so alive within me.

This day the sun was too warm,

too bright and rose up ever so gently

that I found myself aroused,

so stirred that I burst into being.

All around the riverside nature

is alive and we are one.

My blood rushes as the river,

my heart beats to the song of the birds,

my hair blows as the limbs of the trees do sway

and my touch is gentle as a petal on a rose.

Nature cares for itself and it will care for me.

and I have no fear for what's to be.

Quiet moments by the riverside reflect

to me my being.  Awoke did I this spring,

aware of this existence within me.