My Poetry
Below is a collection of my poetry. I hope you will enjoy reading these poems almost as much as I have enjoyed writing them. It is my pleasure to share with you my collective works, in hopes they will bring forth pleasant memories and thoughts of your own.
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From all of us at abeabeyta.com, please enjoy this collection of my poetry.
Please click on a section to begin reading.
​Section 1: Poem Titles A - F
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A Birthday Wish
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A Death in the Forest
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A Moment in His Dominion of Time
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A Night of Enchantment
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A Plan For Me
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A Special Gift for Me?
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A Special Gift For You
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A Special Visitor
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A Touch of Heaven
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After the Diet
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An Angel, A White Dove, Our Baby Jesus
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The Betrayal
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Bills, Bills, What a Funky Day
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Blessed Mary
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The Brass Bed
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The Child
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The Christmas Candle
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The Cry in the Darkness
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Daily Prayer
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Donna
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Fatty
​
​
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The Gift
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Grandson Davy
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Got a Minute Lord?
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The Guardian of McDivit
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The House on 4th Street
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‘I Tried to Understand’
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In Remembrance
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In Witness
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Jennifer Ann
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Kenny Cranfill
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Killing Frost
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Lord, Be Good to Mom
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Mom Was There
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My Garden
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My Grandmother
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My Place in the Sky
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My Son Dave
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My Son Scott
​​​
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The Nativity
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No One
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Ode to Nature
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One More Dance With You
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One More Day
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The Orphan
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Our Lord
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The Padre
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The Picture
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Picture of the Last Supper
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The Pilgrimage
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The Praying Hands
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Santa?
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So That I Will Know
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Survival?
​
​
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Thank You For Being There
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Thanksgiving, 1990
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Time Passes
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To a Rose
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To a Very Special Friend
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To An Angel
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To My Daughter, Brenda
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To My Family
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To My Father
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To My Granddaughter
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To My Granddaughter (Abigail Marie)
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To My Granddaugthers (On Their Baptism)
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Trinchera, Colorado
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Untitled
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Unto Thee
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Vivian, 29 Year Anniversary
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What Would It Take…?
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Woman of the Butte
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Wind
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You Don’t See What I See
-section 1-
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A Birthday Wish
“Happy Birthday, Gemma!
I know that you will find.
A Gift you cannot open,
For it’s of a different kind.
You cannot break or lose it,
or hold It in your hand.
You can’t place it in your pocket
or leave it on the sand.
It will comfort you forever, Gemma
this gift I’m speaking of.
Shown everyday by loved ones,
for it’s the gift of Love. . .”
Written by Abe C Abeyta © - 2020
A Death in the Forest
Into the woods I wandered
and came upon a fallen tree -
a lifeless hulk of wood I thought,
what else could this thing be.
But way down deep inside I knew -
quite hard to understand,
for just like people, this tree had gone
to a rich and greater land.
I could not help but wonder
as tears slowly filled my eyes -
what it would be like for this dear tree
in its wooded paradise.
I imagined that once it got there
its limbs in summer dress -
green leaves in mass arrangement
hiding its nakedness.
And through out onto the distance,
as far as the eye could see -
Trees by the hundred thousands
in Heaven's own symphony.
Then the wind in the tree tops wailed,
in a lonely mournful hum -
as they bowed and swayed in sadness
as if a death had come.
A Moment in His Dominion of Time
There are complex questions that we ask and wonder if there is even a hint at an appropriate and intellectual answer. Maybe if we become insistent in our relentless questioning then maybe answers will be blossoming like wild flowers in the vast creation of His Earthly Environment. This is an example of established conditions that prevail and at times, acknowledge with a significant awareness involving the existing and accepted world that we so admirably love and inhabit.
There are events in the realm of Nature,
that we cannot explain.
Like the Sun that relieves the darkness,
to the vital falling rain.
From the grasp of a raging blizzard,
in a Winter’s intense freeze.
To the welcomed sound, so tranquil
of a Summer’s gentle breeze.
I, at times, with question, wonder
How precise life seems to be.
How the Father in his chosen moment
Created all for you and me.
Abe Abeyta ©
A Night of Enchantment
Awakened from a troubled sleep, a spirit in the darkness stood…
In fright, I wept that eerie night, as any small child would…
I peeked from ‘neath my blanket warm, and gazed upon his face…
I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, in hope this vision would erase…
I looked into his eyes again, and felt my fear was almost gone…
His graying hair lay on his brow, I saw the paper he wrote on…
He grasped the pencil, tightly held, and looked at me as if to say…
I’m not here to bring you harm, why do you look at me that way?
I stood up high upon my bed, and stared upon the ghostly sight…
What do you seek, oh ghost of darkness, why do you trouble me tonight?
I did not hear the welcomed answer; I only saw his puzzled look…
He bowed his head and continued writing, secret writings for his book…
What evil is this stranger’s mission, is it a dream that I partake?
If but a dream, I must awaken, and leave this vision in my wake…
Not a word did this stranger mutter, not a word I heard him say…
Only writing secret writings, and curious awe in my dismay…
Frightened but with courage laden, I slowly walk across the room…
Walking toward the spirit waiting, thinking of my pending doom…
The spirit lifts his head and smiles, gives me his book that I may see…
In disbelief, I read a passage, and realize… that he is me…
A Plan For Me
“What do you plan for me my Father,
what can I expect to see?
Will I see the beauty of your creations
in this world of opacity?
​
Will we grasp a world of love and wonders
as I know we surely can?
Or will we see our World forsaken
by the decadent greed of man.”
At times we will incredulous wonder
at this hate and selfish trend.
How a selfless man in discreet moments
intentionally offend.
​
I asked while filled with indecision
at the rash disorder shown to me.
“What do you plan for me my Father,
what can I expect to see. . .”
Intuitively I felt His Divine word:
“You will see what you have seen,
You will know what you have known,
And you will go where you have been.”
Abe C Abeyta ©
A Special Gift for Me
'Please dear Santa' grant this wish,
and I'll share with all, you'll see.
There'll be joy and Children’s smiles,
that mean so much to me.
I hope I'm not being selfish
for 'the greatest gift' - I know.
Was God's precious gift 'The Child,'
to the world that He loved so.
But I'll just have to insist
on this gift I'm thinking of.
For it's Divine Peace for everyone
along with Christmas Love. . .
A Special Gift for You
In the quiet back streets of the city,
in a darkened alley near the square.
An old decrepit lonely soul,
finds refuge in an ill-made lair.
The clothes he wears are badly tattered,
his shoes are of an unmatched pair.
His long black coat is torn and ragged,
a black hat hides his unkempt hair.
He grasps and wrestles with his blanket,
in a dire attempt to keep him warm.
He protects his precious bag clad bottle,
and tucks it 'neath his cold thin arm.
Trembling he speaks in prayer to Jesus,
whom he has frequently denied.
"I know," he cries, "that it's your birthday.
My God," he says, "you know I tried!"
"I wish," he asks, with clasped hands shaking,
"that before I die be allowed to do.
Like something nice for your dear children
and a very special gift for you."
He drinks and then secures his bottle,
and dries the tears from swollen eyes.
He thinks of loved ones he has abandoned,
and hears his children's futile cries.
A cry he hears from the alley's darkness,
and sees a woman in dire despair.
"I have no place for warmth or comfort
.and time has come for my child to bear!"
"Come in," he cries, "and use my shelter,
then use my blanket to keep you warm.
Use it to wrap your new born baby,
and I shall keep you free from harm."
He lays beside his paste board shelter,
trembling he looks up into the sky.
The snow begins to build upon him,
when he finally hears the baby cry.
He smiles and lifts his hand in gesture,
a cold cupped hand into the sky.
"Thank you Lord for this special moment,
a moment to hear your new born cry."
He remembers his special prayer to Jesus.
"For you my Lord, my God!" he cries.
Then lying near his crude built shelter,
he takes his final breath and dies.
The blowing snow obscures his body,
no longer feels the pain and scorn.
His eyes are closed yet he remembered -
that long ago this very night,
another Child was born. . .
​
​
" Merry Christmas!"
Inspired by victims of the time. . . 'The Homeless.'
A Special Visitor
Fran had a visitor today,
as cute as one could be.
She had long blond hair and sparkling eyes,
Such a joy for one to see.
But then I began to wonder,
as I found her name to be.
Nothing less than angelic -
When she was called -'Lucy.'
I thought of Fran’s mother Lucia,
and some, as I, would say -
from the realm of our Blessed Heaven,
'Fran had a visitor today.'
​
For Fran McMahon 2012'
​
Lucy is an adorable little Yorkie puppy who walked away from her yard and, after a short visit with Fran, Lucy was returned to her home.
Coincidence? Maybe - and maybe not.
​
A Touch of Heaven
A touch of Heaven fell upon the earth one Blessed day,
as Mary and Joseph brought forth their child in a stable's bed of hay.
​
A Star shined brightly in the sky and down upon the earth,
upon the fields and meadows and on the place of His Divine Birth.
Glory to God in the highest, was heard throughout the night
as the Heavens opened to praise the Child, in a grand celestial light.
​
So wonderful the time and now, quite gratified to say,
"that a touch of Heaven fell upon the earth, one very special day."
After the Diet
Hurrah! The fast is over and
Four have maintained their weight –
Forty have gone back together, into
Their plumpy state.
An Angel, A White Dove, Our Baby Jesus
An Angel, the White Dove, and Baby Jesus,
A sight for all to see..
This was the Gift of Christmas, at least what,
I deemed it to be..
The Angel spoke to all mankind, in a strong,
Celestial voice.
“A savior was born unto you today, so stand,
and all rejoice…”
The Spirit, in a white dove clad, to a Holy,
Mission cast…
Unto the child, that lay asleep, the birth,
Of Hope at last…
So remember that God, in all His glory,
gave to all the gift of Love…
By the birth of baby Jesus, the Angel, and
the spirit clad white dove…
The Betrayal
Today I betrayed a friend, the
truest as I've been told.
but I began to doubt his friendship
they say was worth twofold.
You see, he wouldn't heed his master's
call or fetch a stick like most.
He would not cease the mess he made
or the bark at a passing ghost.
- and now as time has healed its wound
I now begin to see -
That it wasn't I who betrayed him,
but he who betrayed me.
Bills, Bills What a Funky Day
I have to write and mail these bills that I
Somehow have to pay –
But someday I shall have my way and bills
Will have to wait –
Cause I’ll be sitting on a river bank
With a can of worms for bait
Blessed Mary
Blessed Mary be with us in our hour of need,
Embrace us with your divine love and devotion.
Pray for us that we may see and feel the sanctity
Of His Love and Mercy now and forever..
Blessed Mary, as the Lord is with you, pray for us
And keep us in the shelter of His grace.
Be with us, O Blessed Mary, Mother of God,
Pray for us that we may, at the hour of our death, inherit The Kingdom of Heaven..
Amen
The Brass Bed
She laid there in eventual sorrow
A smile for all that came to see
A woman clad in bed clothes lying
Upon a brass bed smiling cheerfully
The brass bed so impressively shined
Not shadowing saints around her bed
Her children kneeling at her bedside
Displaying love in what they said
The brass bed shined, the woman glowed
And all that knew this woman came
In death she left a smile and love
Lives she touched will never be the same
The brass bed is empty now, the room
Has lost the luster it once knew
The same décor surrounds her bed
A veil of sadness drapes around it, too
The ghosts of yesterday appear and
Upon the brass bed, a woman ill is lying there
Her loved ones kneeling at her bedside
Hold her hand and brush her tousled hair
The Child
I heard a baby child cry
I saw a tear upon its cheek
I saw the baby’s mom and dad and
To this child I heard them speak
I saw the comfort instilled by warmth
I saw the child in slumber lay
Upon its bed a special sight
Embraced with love throughout the day
What child reflects the gift to man?
With a Divine love so true
Why, it’s Ashley, Davy, Kimmy, Sarah and Abby
And our baby Jesus, too.
“The child is truly the Gift from God.”
The Christmas Candle
In Bethlehem on a star lit night,
In a stable all forlorn…
A single candle provides the light,
While the Blessed Child is born…
The Candle burns while travelers speak,
Of the child they’ve come to see…
“Yes, this is He, the one we seek,”
As he kneels upon one knee…
The candle gives its precious light,
In a brilliant glow so soft…
Upon His face throughout the night,
And upon the, hay filled, loft…
Then all at once they gather thus,
About the Child, for it concerns.
Their Divine Love for baby Jesus,
As the, vivid Christmas, candle burns…
The Cry in the Darkness
The cry of a child, I heard one night, as I
Lay in troubled sleep
The fear and chills enveloped me, as I heard
This child weep
I looked about the bed so dark, as shadows
Filled the room…
When the silence broken by the cry, added to
The eerie gloom…
No one else stirred or awakened, in the shadows
Of my fear…
And no one heard the chilling cry, that I alone
Could hear…
Why do you trouble me ghosts of night; what
Powers do you possess?
Is it my conscience? What have I done? To what
Must I confess?
If this be but a dream, why then do
I deserve…
Such a ghostly dream of hell, when ‘tis God
Alone I serve…
Grant me then that I awaken, from these ghostly
Evil things…
Let me see my loved ones’ faces with the smiles
The morning brings…
Daily Prayer
Look upon me my Heavenly Father, and hear my plea.
Forgive me for any wrong that I have done.
Walk with me as I walk through life and on
Into the threshold of your kingdom.
When I am called away, my Father,
I place my soul into your hands.
With gratitude that through all my struggles,
Burdens, tears, I did not stray from your
Path for you were there to comfort me with
Your goodness and mercy.
Oh, my Heavenly Father when I am with you
At your side, and even if only one of my
Wonderful children is righteous in your name.
Then my life on earth was not for naught,
And the love I shared with them was not in
Vain….
Donna
This is a poem written about a friend and
the untimely death of her daughter, Donna.
It was and it will always be a tragic and an
unacceptable ingredient to the uncertain
recipe of life.
​
​
Today, I looked upon your picture
and some very special things,
That tell of our time together
that my pleasant memory brings.
​
How we talked and laughed so lovingly,
when on a shopping spree,
Your smile would glow so beautifully
that meant so much to me.
I remember that as a child,
when a hurt would end your play,
I lovingly held you in my arms
and wiped your tears away.
​
Of all the times we shared together,
I’m sure you would agree
The care and love we lived-by
was as wonderful as it could be.
Then again, I took your picture
and sadly looked upon your face,
And I knew you were in the shelter,
of God’s Heavenly Divine Grace.
​
But then, I found the lack of luster
and the gracious sparkle I was knew
For I found the most essential missing -
and what was missing Donna, was you.
Nancy Robertson
“There are no precious memories more beautiful than –
when my children were little and we were all together.”
AC Abeyta ©
Fatty
I saw her for the first time then.
A jolly gal was she –
A double chin, a ripped out seam, and a
Dimple on her knee.
-section 2-
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The Gift
Christmas stockings hung adorned,
In color trim of red and gold…
Waiting anxiously for Santa, his sleigh
and jingle bells as we’d been told…
So vivid I remember on that
Very special night…
No Christmas tree or gifts and toys,
Or lights that shine so bright…
But hope of Santa still prevailed,
As we waited patiently…
Our pretty stockings, near the door
for Santa’s eyes to see.
Mom saw our hope in Santa and
our stockings on the wall…
Tears then filled her saddened eyes,
To see the hope within us all…
I didn’t understand Mom's tears,
On such a joyous night…
But she didn't see our young sparkle
with the presence of her light.
​
I will never forget that Christmas,
Yes, the birth of Christ and all…
Love that filled our Christmas Stockings,
Hanging empty on the wall…
It will always be a special Christmas
though we didn't have alot
That special love we shared together
was the greatest gift I ever got. . .
“or ever will receive”
Grandson Little Davey
Another Miracle my grandson, the Lord
Found it to be…
A perfect day to bless the earth with
A gift for all to see…
You’re quite the little guy, so cute and
Yes a little boy…
Your Mom and Dad so proud of you
You’ve filled their hearts with joy…
Your gramma, grampa, and auntie Jen
Send their love to you…
Such a precious little angel, God bless
In all you do…
But if you were to ask your Grampa, to
Explain his obvious joy…
He’d say that God was good to him
When he gave this wondrous boy…
Got a Minute Lord…
Maybe at times I try your patience,
But Lord, I’d like for you to know…
I still remember the day we met –
It seems so very long ago…
As a child I walked unto the altar,
My heart pounded with your grace…
As I took my very first Communion,
I saw mercy in your divine – face.
At times, I needed love and comfort,
When I felt pain and dire despair…
I asked for help to bear my burdens,
But found that there was no one there…
I know you must have had your reasons,
To have avoided all my pain and tears…
I surely thought that you would be there,
When I served you so, throughout the years…
You probably think I’m ungrateful,
When you hear me speak so candidly…
The time when pain despair and sorrow,
Brought me down upon one knee
I know you picked me up and quite battered,
Gave me strength that I might be strong…
You gave me the will to go on living,
But why did you have to wait so long?
I guess at times we must talk to someone,
And I chose you, Lord, as I have before…
For as a child I loved you dearly,
And as a man I have loved you more…
The Guardian of McDivit
The Guardian of McDivit clad, in
A ghostly black attire –
Watches over souls that slumber
With the eyes of Hell’s own kindled fire –
Destined to watch forever the
Guardian keeps his flock at bay –
As not to let them roam or wander
From McDivit, where their bodies lay –
The fog is thick at McDivit, the mist
Reflects an eerie tone –
The figure of the guardian standing
Near a tree and a cold headstone –
A restless soul then slowly rises
And prepares to leave his buried ground –
The guardian lifts his hand in anger
And directs him back without a sound –
So if you’re ever near McDivit on
A foggy misty night
And a shadow forms a figure, with
Deep eyes burning bright –
Remember if you become frightened and
Chances are you will –
For you have seen the guardian, at
The graveyard on McDivit Hill –
House on 4th Street
Creaking when the wind was blowing
Freezing when the day was cold
A small gray house upon a hillside
Was our happy quaint abode.
Sometimes all that we could muster
Was a little coal to keep us warm
And the faith and love that we all shared
Kept us well and free from harm
Of all the memories I’ll ever have
One so special and most surely will
Be of the love we shared together
In our little gray house upon the hill
‘I Tried To Understand’
Unto a knoll of final rest, in woe, I slowly walked..
Upon his sacred mound I stared.
I tried to understand.
The tears would overcome the eyes upon my face,
mindful of the green grass at my feet.
I tried to understand.
The thought of days of joy pulled tragic at my heart.
A void within me now and ever-more
I tried to understand...
With tear-wet eyes I placed my hand upon his stone.
I felt the cold, yet warmth consumed my soul.
I tried to understand..
With memory clad in love, I bowed in silent prayer.
Searching deep within, I asked a desperate, “why?”
I tried to understand..
A wet kerchief upon my nose, my body shook with grief.
Trying desperately to perceive a loss I would endure.
I tried to understand..”
A prevailing breeze throughout the day pleasant in its wake,
showing all who question, a life and yet unseen.
I tried to understand..
A rosary dangled from my hands as grace consumed my heart.
The wind blew softly on my face and on the flowers at my knees.
I watched them gently sway and I slowly looked about,
upon the trees, the clouds and upon the roses in the knoll. And I smiled, for I understood…
In Remembrance
In remembrance of the death of Christ,
I knelt in silent prayer.
I thought of how He suffered,
for the crimes of love and care.
I closed my eyes and saw dear Jesus,
a crown of thorns and all.
I saw the wooden cross he carried.
Then I saw him weakly fall.
I saw not a rebellious gesture,
nor a hint of anger in His eyes.
As He asked God to forgive them,
in his walk to paradise.
I saw Him nailed to a cross,
to await a tragic death.
I saw His mother weeping softly,
as He took His final breath.
I saw the heavens in defiance,
as bright lightning lit the sky.
An earthquake in succession,
as if a death to justify.
I saw them take Him to a tomb
and placed to rest within.
On the third day they returned,
to see where He had been.
Yes! He rose in all His glory
and to all I heard Him tell.
With His Father, where He lives,
there we shall also dwell.
He spoke as He ascended
His arms remained unfurled.
“I shall be with you always,” He said,
“even unto the end of the world.”
For God so loved the world, that He sent His only beloved Son…
In Witness
I saw the struggles of man on Earth –
Enduring hardships for all their worth –
I saw the species of a bird so grand –
Erased forever from its native land –
I saw the waters so vast so deep –
And majestic mountains so high and steep –
I saw the hurt and heard man’s cries –
I saw their joys through smiling eyes –
Of all the things that I have seen –
Throughout the world where I have been –
It stands out quite in my mortal mind –
The uncertain existence of all mankind –
Jennifer Ann
She befriends all living creatures how
unsightly they may be –
The worms, the toads, the pretty birds
And all that she may see –
​
She loves to talk of all the things that
Were set upon the earth –
And life that once prevailed before our
Destined birth –
She often reassures us that a veterinarian
Is what she’ll be –
And be around the animals, to care for
Tenderly –
I have never seen another girl that so loves
God’s living things –
So aware is she of nature and of the flowers
The morning brings –
She loves another animal, the species we
Call man-
She’ll chatter endless through the day as
Loudly no one can-
She’ll hold and hug most everyone, we know
She really cares-
And for all the people that are ill she sends
Her daily prayers-
And as the father of the child I’m as thankful
as I can be –
To our gracious Father up above for what He sent to me.
Kenny Cranfill
The concept, of what Kenny would say if given the opportunity, I took into the realm of my rational observation. My words were chosen with much thought and assessed by the time I spent with Kenny and his Mother. It is definitely a perceived impression of what I think he would say if he had the chance or ability to do so.
I'm here in Heaven, Mom, and it's just like you've always said.
You'll see it someday . . . and I promise that you will not be disappointed.
I miss you Mom and want so much to see your smile.
to see your pretty face and just to hang out for a while.
I'll be waiting here for you, Mom but don't hurry, I beg of you.
Enjoy your family and friends and the pretty things you like to do.
Oh, I'm doing fine and quite content, as I know we all will be.
So share your care with one and all and the love you shared with me.
Oh, we’ll be together again, dear Mom, and we’ll wipe away your tears.
We’ll throw away the heartbreaks; you’ve known so many years.
And please dear Mom remember that in the realm of what we do,
That once again the day will come, when I will be with you.
‘We’ll meet again’
I didn't mean to hurt you Mom, I love you.
Thank you for loving me and helping me through the years.
‘God Bless you and I’ll see you in the Morning, Mom.’
Killing Frost
The frost has come and gone
And in its wake, a deathly toll
No longer are the leaves a lovely
Green and colors gone from hills
That onward roll
Lord, Be Good to Mom
Be kind to Mom, dear God
She is so frail and small.
She’s been sick as you know and
She just now heard your call
Take her in your arms, dear God
But not too hard for she’s been hurting so.
Cuddle her gently, Lord, as gently as you can
For she’s been sick Lord, as you know.
Be good to Mom, dear God
Walk with her gently and slow,
As not to hurt her little legs.
For she’s been sick, Lord, as you know.
Hold her head up, dear God.
So weak and her strength would come and go.
Just easy Lord, so very easy
For she’s been sick, Lord, as you know.
Give us strength to live without her
Whom we all loved so dear. Tell her we miss her so
And hope she is well,
‘cause she’s been sick Lord, as you know.
Mom Was There
We learned compassion in our childhood
We learned the feeling of despair
But we never lost our faith in living
For we always knew that Mom was there
She was there when we were sick or injured
A leg ache we could scarcely bear
What brought relief to our discomfort
Was we always knew that Mom was there
Through the hardships we endured as children
And as grown-ups we all met despair
What brought relief to us in sorrow
Was we always knew that Mom was there
And I think that God in all His splendor
So gracious in His love and care
Never worried for our welfare
For He always knew that Mom was there
I thank you Lord for what you gave us
And now keep her in your loving care
For when I look and pray to heaven
I know that you and Mom are there
My Garden
Won’t you come into my Garden
and sit with me a spell?
I pray you’ve had a fruitful day and
a pleasant one as well
We’ll address the tribulations that so
plague our world and then -
We’ll share our Blessings with the Lord and
thank Him once again.
I know you’ll love my luscious tea
and my scrumptious bread as well
So - won’t you step into my Garden
and sit with me a spell?
My Grandmother
Our Angel
As a child, a toy at Christmas
Lit the candle of delight.
The Christmas tree in glowing splendor
brightly shinned all through the night.
Special gifts with printed names
Sat in-line beneath the tree.
They were small bags filled with candy,
From Grandma's heart, for us to see.
So kind was she to everyone,
Her warmth so filled the air.
The love she spread so willfully
Reflected joy beyond compare.
God called her home one Autumn day
Saddened, I fought the urge to cry.
For, I knew she took her special place,
In God’s Heavenly starlit sky.
I looked up into the Heavens,
As far as the eye could see.
Whispered a special prayer for Grandma,
Who was so very dear to me.
‘For my Grandmother, Emelia Grant Madrid’
Written by, Conde - Abe C Abeyta. © - 1948
My Place in the Sky
There’s a wonderful place –
Way up in the sky…
Where the Rainbow arches –
And the clouds roll by…
Where the Eagles soar –
And many birds fly…
Where the Heavens open –
To hear man’s cry…
This is the place –
My place in the sky…
Where once as a child –
In a land that I dreamed…
I saw luster lined Castles –
So majestic it seemed…
Where I unsheathed a sabre –
And a dragon I slew…
A venture that only –
A Knight would pursue…
It’s a magnificent world –
So easy to find…
That welcomes your dreams –
And grants peace of mind…
It’s that wonderful place –
Way up in the sky…
Where the rainbow arches –
And the clouds roll by…
Where the Eagles soar –
And many birds fly…
Where the Heavens open –
To hear man’s cry…
This is the place –
My place in the sky…
My Son Dave
You’re number two, my son and
God has smiled at me-
To send me such a loving son
As cute no one can be-
And mommy smiles and looks quite
Spry at what she’s proudly done-
For with the help of our dear love
God sent a wondrous son-
My Son Scott
You’re home at last my little one
And joy you’ve brought with thee –
You’ve made Mommy, Daddy, everyone as
Happy as they could be –
But most of all my son your
Grandma’s happy too –
And those that have not seen you yet,
Have sent their love to you –
-section 3-
back to top
The Nativity
An evening star so brightly shines
Upon a stable all forlorn
Joseph, to comfort, tends to Mary
This night, their child would be born
An Angel on a holy mission
Telling all to come and see
A child upon a hay-filled manger
The savior, as it was told to be
Kings and Wise Men gather round
Shepherds leave their flocks that day
They come to worship baby Jesus
Who lies asleep on a bed of hay
And to the world, Our lord is come
As Angels sing in Praise above
For on this, blessed, star lit night
A child is born, The Gift of Love
A King, following the star, arrives at the stable. He falls to his knees, and with much gold, offers it to the child in the manger. He removes his crown and also places it in offering to the Child. Joseph asks, “Sir, why have you offered your Kingdom to my Child?” “Can you not see that he is but a babe that has just been given birth?” “Yes,” the King replied, “but I know he is the Son of God and I have come to worship him and to bring gifts fit only for a King.”
Joseph, with much thought, looks upon the child and remembering the scriptures and prophesies, humbly replies, “sir, take back your treasures and return them to your people.” “For your faith alone is greater than a mountain of gold, and one must remember,” and he speaks with much candor as he points to the Child, “this child is a gift, a gift from his Father to you.”
The King removes his cloak and places it around the newborn child to keep him warm. A good Samaritan quickly provides a cloak for the King, that he too be kept warm. In turn, the good Samaritan is also offered a cloak that he would also be kept warm. Joseph, watching the continued giving of their cloak to one another until all were embraced in warmth, smiles and looks at the King. The King bows his head, clutches at his cloak and whispers, “Truly, he is the Son of God and his gift is Love.”
Two thousand years ago, a child was born… A very special child.
No One
No one will ever touch you, like I have.
No one will ever search your eyes so true.
No one will ever hold you like I have.
No one will ever love you as I love you.
There was a time we lost our dreams
and the value of a love so grand.
But then with hope devotedly
I promised as I held your hand.
No one will ever dry your tears like I have
No one will ever care the way I do
No one will ever think of you like I have.
No one will ever love you as I love you.
Ode to Nature
Unleash your strong and chilling breath
Bring on the blizzard snow
Show your mighty strength so vast
And let your four winds blow
One More Dance with You
Let me have just one more dance
Let me hold you through the night
Let me see that twinkle in your eyes
The smile you show me when I hold you tight
The thrill I get in your embrace
The love I feel the whole night through
I long to hold you in my arms once more
So, won’t you let me have one more dance with you?
I want to hold you – to whisper in your ear
Words of love and happiness
That you alone can hear
So, come into my arms and let this moment be
Filled with love and tenderness
When you give this dance to me
So, come into my arms once more
With love to feel the whole night through
Your touch means all the world to me
So, won’t you let me have one more dance with you?
One More Day
If I had one more day with you Mom,
just one more day. . .
I would first of all just look at you
‘cause I wouldn’t know what to say.
I would touch your hand, brush your hair
and simply shed a tear.
And once again I’d feel the love
of one so very dear.
Then I would finally tell you Mom,
that we have missed you so.
How we have managed without you Mom,
I guess I’ll never know.
So, the greatest gift I could receive
is to hear Our Father say –
That I could have you home again dear Mom,
at least for one more day...
The Orphan
All but forsaken by its kind
A tree stands all alone
Nothing near, but blades of grass
An empty can, a stone
But if one can just savor a thought
And simply understand
This little tree didn’t just grow
In this forsaken land
For many, many years ago after the
Iceberg ran
There were flowers and plants of every sort
And trees to shelter man
Then progress seemed to take command
Not part of nature’s goal
For all the land was cleared and cleaned
Save one forgotten soul
It sits there swaying gently, as
The mild spring breezes blow
And people passing by still say
“What a place for a tree to grow”
Then other say they can’t explain
The sound, as it seems to be
A mournful sound of a lonely child
Or the sound of an orphaned tree
Our Lord
His smile was shown in the
Golden sunshine
His tears we saw in the drenching rain
His love was shown in our joyous living
Our sins were shown in the
Form of pain
The Padre
In the valley of the purgatory basin, near a lonely river’s bend,
A town filled with superstition where evil thoughts transcend.
Folklore filled with ghosts of darkness, where all who see remain,
transfixed in awe and disbelief, for human reason can’t explain.
A lonely road in the moonlit darkness, a dark clad figure walks,
not concerned by the eerie shadows, for it’s evil that he stalks.
A black hat shadows deep set eyes; his face is lean and taught,
his long gray hair and mustache, destined to Heaven’s lot.
He walks with a gait of confidence, holds a Bible in his hand,
his other hand swings freely, as he walks across the land.
A golden crucifix is seen dangling, from a long chain at his side.
Glitters brightly in the moonlight, swinging rhythmically with his stride.
They say he was the preacher that served all in prayer and deed,
protecting all from sin and evil and to be there in their need.
Confronted one night by hell itself, they heard his words that said,
“you may take my earthbound body now, but my soul will live instead.”
They found him that next morning with his Bible in the sand,
a golden cross held tightly, in the palm of his lifeless hand.
His long gray hair and mustache, the dark hat and suit he wore,
gave credence to his identity and ideals that he stood for.
The Churchyard now in ruins, as darkness takes command,
but people still believe he’s there and forever walks the land.
They say that when the night is warm and the breezes gently blow,
the trees begin their eerie sway and moonlight shadows grow.
A dark clad figure takes the form, of a man all dressed in black,
standing briefly by the churchyard, as if to say, “I’m back!”
He walks with a gait of confidence, holds a bible in his hand,
the other hand swings freely, as he walks across the land.
A golden crucifix is seen dangling, from a long chain at his side,
glitters brightly in the moonlight, swinging rhythmically with his stride.
His long gray hair and mustache along with deep set eyes,
take on a grin, as if to say, “with hell no compromise.”
The Picture
Picture of The Last Supper​
(with a crystal and glass display)
With a special and Heavenly gesture
I offer this quaint display.
The crystal, glass and teardrops shown
Have much – much more to say.
You see, the crystal shows the purity
Of your mission here on earth.
The love you shared with everyone
That began with your Blessed birth.
Glass teardrops show the heartaches
And the pain you suffered so.
The tears that flowed from your Mother’s face
With a hurt we’ll never know.
The light reflects so beautifully –
In a quaint celestial glow –
“Just for you,” I whispered softly.
“Just thought you’d like to know.”
The Pilgrimage
To ‘El Santuario’ de Chimayo, NM.
I walked down into the courtyard
And on through an ancient door.
I sensed a Divine contentment
As I looked at all, the quaint decor.
The altar with its Baby Jesus
Held by His Mother, dear and true.
The cross I saw that held our Jesus
Was standing proud beside our pew
I walked into a room, adjacent,
Where crutches, canes, and pictures lay…
They were artifacts of suffering
In witness to their cure that day…
And on into a room, I wandered
In the center of the room, I saw…
A well, where Blessed soil was taken
To cure the body of its flaw
And all the time that I was praying
Within this church of so much pride.
I felt that as I talked to Heaven
Jesus was sitting at my side…
The Praying Hands
Two carvings of Praying Hands and Our Lady and Child – were given as a gift from a very special friend.
They were taken and placed on a shelf in the bedroom.
When I touched them, a sense of peace came over me and I was sure that I
had momentarily entered into a state of Divine Grace.
From an Olive Tree found in the Wilderness Where Jesus walked. . . came this wonderful Gift.
This chosen land that some would say
would serve as witness to our Savior’s day.
In human conflict amid discord
they gathered humbly to hear His Word.
From an Olive tree in the Holy Land
sculptures created by a gifted hand.
These relics came into my home one day,
And with affection placed, in quaint display.
They glowed with love and Divine Grace
an amazing sight in their borrowed place.
For from the midst of stone and sand
came a wonderful gift, from this Sacred Land
‘The Hands of Our Savior came and offered salvation to man. And it was to be. . .
Santa?
You may not see dear Santa,
Nor even see his glorious sleigh.
You may not see the gentle reindeer,
As they scurry on their way…
But you’ll find that if you humbly wish,
And with all your might believe.
That there is a joyful red clad man,
Bringing gifts on Christmas Eve…
You may equate the birth of Jesus,
With the love He vastly spread…
To the love and joy of this special man,
When he dons a suit of red…
So That I Will Know
If you really truly love me,
Show me now so that I will know.
Treat me now with tender feelings,
From which family affections flow.
Be kind to me while I am living,
So dear to all, I’ve tried to be.
I’ve tried to show you my affection,
And how dear, that you have been to me.
I think of when, you were all children,
And all the love I shared with you..
I tried to show you life in earnest,
and uncouth things that people do..
There were mistakes in thought and notion,
A broken promise, a threat, a sneer..
Then tears would flow like unharnessed rivers,
If what was said was in thought sincere..
So, if you have tender thoughts about me,
please tell me now, don’t threaten fate.
Please don’t wait until I’m sleeping,
when you will find that it’s too late.
In death, I won’t hear your precious voices,
Nor see the faces that I love so.
So if You love me while I’m living,
Tell me now, so that I will know.
​
A reflection of Fran McMahon’s love for her children.
Survival?
Through the blood, the sweat, the tears
We have won, we have prevailed
Though victorious, but battered and torn we
Succumb to joy and our sorrows slowly ebb away
And once again, it’s time to heal our wounds,
Prepare our social battlefield
For sure as life we’ll have to fight again
Another day
-Section 4-
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Thank You for Being There
Thank you for being there, when I touched your little face at birth..
The little baby sounds you made, while nestled in your blanket warm..
Thank you for being there, when I dried a tear from your first hurt..
The many little talks, I thought, to always keep you free from harm..
Thank you for being there, as you walked to your first day at school..
The smile upon your little face, that hid your first day fears..
Thank you for being here on those special Christmas days..
Your joy when you opened Santa’s gifts, I couldn’t hide my tears..
Thank you for being there, as time took its destined course..
Our lengthy talks of special friends, and college days ahead..
Thank you for being there, when you met that very special friend..
The heartaches that prevailed when marriage vows were said.
Thank you for being there when you touched your child’s face at birth..
The little sounds they made while nestled in their blankets warm..
Thank you for being there when you dried a tear from their first hurt..
The many talks you have to always keep them free from harm..
Thank you for being there, and for all the love and joy we’ve shared..
And all those special moments in our lives, so very dear to me..
Thank you for being there as I dry the tears upon my cheek..
Thanking God for His gracious foresight, in His gift of memory..
Thank you for being there
For time does not dampen Love, it merely increases its intensity on the Soul.
Thanksgiving, 1990
The aroma of a turkey, roasting
the smile of one and all
All my children gathering home again
awaiting mom’s familiar call
There’s a little girl now in our Family,
a granddaughter named Ashley Sue
God knows how much we think of her
and of all our children, too
I know it’s a day of Thanksgiving and I’ll
Be the first to say
Thank you lord, for all our Blessings
Through Jesus Christ we pray
And all the time as I was praying
I thought how rich I must surely be
For God must have loved me greatly
To give me such a family
Time Passes
Life fulfills its
Predetermined cycle
Of existence
​
The trees wither and
Ultimately die
And man becomes
An entity of his past…
To a Rose
A Gift from nature, a Rose so lovely stands
Upright, so proud and in a radiant pose
Clearly, one can see the strength and beauty
Of this brilliant gleaming Rose
Unsurpassed in fragrance, and of course
its Lovely hue
It touches true the soul of man, in love and
In his sorrow too
A lovely petal falls, so gently
its Color starts to fade
Its thorns begin to lose defiance, the stem,
no Longer can its systems aid
Dry and in its deathly state, the wind begins
Its gentle sound
Spreading petals throughout the land
its lifeless stem, so tightly bound
Fruitless so it seems and yet, one must
Remember what we’ve seen
Life is nothing if we live today, forgetting
All that it has been
And in the midst of tall oak trees, along the
Stream where the water, gently flows
A flower stands in strength and beauty
behold, the lovely, lovely Rose
To A Very Special Friend
A special friend is one we turn to,
when our feelings need a lift .
Someone very special –
for our friendship is a gift.
This special friend fulfills my life,
with beauty – joy and grace –
And makes this world I live in,
a much – much better place. . .
“So today I hope we find the key,
that allows our souls to share –
A common love between our hearts
laced with a Divine Care”. . .
To An Angel
A cozy home that reflects the love
that you had so abundantly to give.
So long ago and yet so clear
my inner thoughts entail.
Your efforts toward attainment
while concerns for all prevail.
It's hard to see what you could see
and some, I'm sure, would say.
You never know what she'll create
when stirred on a given day.
It is definitely quite remarkable
and amazing - at least to me.
To plan decor from a mental picture
and to see what others cannot see. . .
Though time may finally take its toll
and we find our days are few
The gracious time I shan't forget
is the time I shared with you.
AC Abeyta ©
To My Daughter, Brenda
I held you not with arms so wanting
I touched not your skin so fair.
I did not cuddle you my baby,
for you know that Daddy wasn’t there.
I didn’t walk you around the corner
and upon my knee you did not sit.
I didn’t see your brown eyes sparkle
when a candle on your birthday lit.
Somehow, I’ll endure the heartache
that I have had to hold within.
And all the years we were not together
In my thoughts you’ve always been.
I pray now that you’ve grown my baby
And fate to us is not unkind.
For in time with Blessed understanding
I know that precious love we’ll find.
For there is nothing closer than the bond
Between father, mother son and daughter.
And time cannot alter nor effect its intensity -
on the Soul.
​
​
Conde’ © 1977
To My Family
Thanksgiving, 1994
Today, we gather in your name, our Father
We give thanks for all your blessings
that you have set before us
from thy infinite bounty…
​
We gather in thy presence to profess
our faith unto you, and to acknowledge the gifts
that you have so graciously given.
Through Jesus Christ our Lord, we pray
​
To My Father
Look upon me my Heavenly Father and hear my prayer.
Forgive me Father for all my contraventions.
Walk with me as I walk through life and on into the
Dawn of your magnificent Kingdom.
I place my soul into your hands, with supreme gratitude that through all my struggles, burdens and tears, you were there to comfort me with your goodness and mercy.
Heavenly Father, when I am called away and even if only one of my wonderful children is virtuous in Your Name.
I believe that my life on earth was not for naught and the love I shared with them was not in vain….
To My Granddaughter
Welcome home, my grandchild we’ve
Waited so long it seems…
And all the love that awaits you
Is beyond your wildest dreams…
Your mom so lovely carried you, with
Joy beyond compare…
Your daddy proud and grateful, to have
You in life to share…
You’re all that we expected and
As pretty as can be…
With rosy cheeks, a dimpled chin, such
A lovely child to see…
Do I believe in miracles? Well I guess
I really do…
For God made one in Kansas City, and
He called her Ashley Sue…
To my Granddaughter, Abigail Marie
A special day, a special hour, little Abby as God chose it to be..
When you were given to your Mom and Dad, to love you so tenderly..
​
Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles have sent their Love to you..
You’re such a special little angel, Abby, God bless in all You do..
You’re the prettiest little girl, our Abby, your wit is more than set..
For when your diaper needs a change, you start your little fret..
​
But then when you are hungry and your food is somewhat late..
We accept the wisdom of your voice, and silence has to wait..
The day that you arrived, little Abby, as God showed you the way..
Showing all the gift of Love, with your presence on that day..
​
And all the family loves you so, quite sure that they all see..
That heaven sent this special angel, Our Abigail Marie..
We’ll Love you always Abby..
Grandpa Abeyta
To My Granddaughters (On their Baptism)
Walk with Jesus, Our little girls, walk into
The threshold of a special day…
When God extends his arms to you, to guide
You always in your destined way…
Yes, there’s joy in all our hearts, dear Kimmy Ann
And Ashley Sue…
As Mom and Dad so proudly stand, as
God, so welcomes you…
But if Kimmy tends to shed a tear, and
Stirs a little bit…
Or maybe says a word or two, to show
Her wondrous wit…
Remember, God in all his mercy, I’m sure
That He will condone…
That all our Kimmy wants, is
To make her presence known…
And through the years in the hand of God,
Throughout the world so wide…
The Girls, in wisdom and honor cling
To Jesus standing at their side…
Trinchera, Colorado
​
(Paraphrasing my mom’s words, “Those were the happiest days of my life.
When the kids were little and we were all together.")
The countryside so barren, lifeless so it seems
but as a lad, I tramped the land in endless play…
I saw the sunrise O’er the barren mountain range
and all too soon, I saw the sunset at the end of day…
A small but such a wondrous stream, brought relief
to a dry, forsaken land…
And we all found time in our busy day to wade into
and walk upon the sand…
A bridge traversed this watery way, and such a
clatter it would make…
When we jumped and ran across it, prevailing dust
settled slowly in our wake…
But the sounds of laughter dampens as time goes on
into its destined way…
Removes the things that were and replaces them with
the things that are today…
And people say when the day is warm, and the wind
begins its blowing softly across the land…
They say they hear the children’s laughter and below
the bridge they see them wading and walking
gently in the sand…
Untitled
I finally found the path to you my Lord
In the strangest place it seems –
For it wasn’t in the closet, within a book,
Or on a giant TV screen…
For in the scriptures and the life of Christ,
So very plainly tells…
That deep within each one of us,
The path to our God dwells…
Unto Thee…
Into your house I wandered, Lord
And I knelt beside your pew
My health no longer what it was
I just had to talk to you
I ask that in your daily tasks
Take a moment please
Show me your gracious mercy
For I ask upon my knees
I ask your help to bear my pain
And to drive away my fears
Place your divine hand in mine
And wipe away my tears
With your ever-precious love for all
I pray that you will see
My life and soul that you once gave
I now commit to Thee…
Amen
Vivian, 29 Year Anniversary
I woke up this morning, Vivian
My thoughts were just of you
And all the years I’ve treasured, so
Much I wished you knew
Twenty-nine years, my Vivian, how
Lucky I’ve surely been
To have such a lovely wife as you, as
Precious as I’ve ever seen
We’ve raised our children, Vivian, and
Now grandchildren fill the scene
The cutest little babies born
As I know, there’s ever been
But you know, dear Vivian, through all
Our hardships, tears and joys
God smiled on us, dear Vivian, when
He gave us Jenny and our special boys
You have done well, dear Vivian, better
You could never be
And rewards you’ve earned in life
You have yet to see
And when time has been a factor, Bib,
And I’m not around to see
Think of all the good things we did together
And please remember me
What Would it Take
To be with You
What would it take to be all you want me to be –
What would it take to share with all unselfishly –
What would it take to keep you near in all I do
What would it take to share my chosen life with you
What would it take – what would it take
To be with you
What would it take to keep your words so dear to me…
What would it take to share with all unselfishly –
​
What would it take to keep you near in all I do
What would it take to share my chosen life with you
What would it take – what would it take
To be with you…
Wind
To listen to the wind enacts from
Deep within my mind.
A feeling of tranquility, a sense of
Peace, that reaches deep into my
Everlasting soul.
The goal I seek to capture
In my worldly human role
Is to live my life in such a way,
That will satisfy my soul
Woman of the Butte
Volcanic rocks all strewn about,
This butte so humbly sits.
With all the stories however true,
Its evil reference fits.
For very-very long ago, well back
Into its past.
A woman wrongly punished by the town,
An evil curse was cast. . .
In flames and with her dying breath,
She cursed the mob at hand.
“This butte will be my home,” she cried,
“And I’ll forever walk the land.”
“You cannot hide,” she shrieked with hate,
“For I’ll be back for you,”
“You’ll be with me on this lonely butte,
No matter what you do.”
All those folks are gone now,
All met a violent death.
She kept her word that night she spoke,
With her final dying breath.
The Butte still sits so lonely,
As unbelievers’ thoughts are stilled,
When they hear the eerie laughter,
As if her curse has been fulfilled.
You Don't See What I See
Dear Friend, what do you see?
Do you see an old lady, sick as can be?
A lady so thin and now so distraught . . .
for the long battle for life, she has lost.
Look again dear friend, look closer and see. . .
She's not an old lady but a child of three.
Sitting so proud with the world ahead,
kissing her mommy as she's tucked into bed. . .
Do you see an old lady? Then friend look again.. .
She's not an old lady but a young girl of ten,
who has just done her chores and now readies the meal,
for her brother's and sister's whose hunger reveal. . .
Look closer dear friend, now what do you see?
Do you see an old lady as sick as can be?
Can't you see that young lady reliving her life?
As a daughter, a mother, a grandma, a wife?
So open your eyes friend, see what I see.. .
There is no lady lying sick as can be.
For she has gone back to the years before -
where she's with her mother and children once more. . .
So friend look at her now and see once for me.
But if you see a sick lady, friend, you don't see what I see. .
