Where She Has Been

She wasn’t much,
This battered soul.
Her life had spun
Out of control.
 
The pain she’d known
Had shattered her.
Life passed her by
In frozen blur
 
Of dirty streets
Throughout the night
Of endless men
And neon light,
 
Of high heeled shoes
And bitterness
That all life seemed
This ugly mess.
 
Now she is gone
And no one’s cried
Or cared if she
Has lived or died
 
Except those at
A murder scene
Who try to trace
Where she has been.
 
© 2012  Pam H. Murray

A Minute's Reflection

Deep in the roots of a cedar tree
I saw a shadow beckoning me,
One tiny mouse who’d escaped the snow
Hiding from winter and laying low.
 
Softly I stepped back in case she’d run.
If fear overcame her, she’d be undone.
But afternoon found her still hiding there
And I had some grain I had brought to share.
 
She accepted my gift most gracefully
And sat down to eat ‘neath that cedar tree.
I brought her more moss for her little bed
And watched as she lay down her tiny head.
 
Then I slipped away over crunching snow.
Somewhere in my heart was a gentle glow,
A minute’s reflection of one small friend
Who survived in a tree and the words I’ve penned.
 
© 2012  Pam H. Murray

My Prayer

Lord, this lonely sinner
Stands confused upon the road
Seeking Your forgiveness
For not carrying Your load.
 
There wasn’t much You asked,
Just a simple word or two
To share Your blessings with the world
And express my faith in You;
 
Simple acts of kindness
To a lamb strayed from the fold,
Leaving her some dignity,
A gift that she could hold
 
And for those unfortunate
A little of my time,
Perhaps a quiet meal or two
And occasionally a dime.
 
With the wealth of my existence
As I move from day to day,
Oh Lord, please give me strength
To share comfort, I now pray.
 
© 2012  Pam H. Murray

Frozen Dreams

As the snow drifts built in the winter dusk
And the hobo settled down,
He was remembering passing years
And wondering if he’d be found.
 
He’d searched in vain for a place with warmth
But no one would take him in.
He doubted his chances to last the night;
His clothing was much too thin.
 
As his body numbed he began to dream
And they were wonderful dreams.
There he was a simple old man
Who was fishing in mountain streams
 
And he had a home at the end of the day
With a fire that was burning so warm
He need not worry about the night
In the depth of a winter storm.
 
With a smile on his face as the snow came down
His life gently slipped away.
Nobody knew he was lying there
As snow fell throughout the day.

© 2012  Pam H. Murray

 

A Gift of Hope

With tired feet and tattered clothes

He wondered into a town
Not expecting much of life
When life had let him down.
 
He didn’t search to see a smile
Believing none were there.
He’d even lost his faith in God,
To the depth of his despair.
 
He wondered past a little church
On a hidden avenue
And didn’t notice someone rise
As he came into view.
 
An ancient man rose from the steps
And said, “Come rest a while.”
At first afraid, he soon relaxed
As he saw the old man’s smile.
 
He sat upon those dusty steps
And let the old man talk.
“Son, I know how tired you are.
I see the way you walk.”
 
The old man took his tired feet
And removed his worn out shoes
Then touched bare feet with gentle hands
That brushed each angry bruise.
 
The young man hung his head in shame
And tried to pull away.
The old man told him quietly,
“Son, I wish that you would stay.”
 
He gave the young man food and drink
And a quiet place to rest.
But, more than that, gave him hope
And that gift was the best!
 
© 2012  Pam H. Murray