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Eileen C. Peters' Book of Poems - Section 4

 

 

 

Jesus Speaks to Me

 

I have called thee by thy name and thou art mine.
  For eternity upon My palms I've written you.
With loving-kindness that is everlasting do I draw thee,
  With bands and cords of love, eternal, true.

 

When in trouble and you call do I deliver,
  In the secret place of thunder hear My voice.
When you call upon Me to your voice I hearken,
  In My peace and love your soul may then rejoice.

 

When ye seek Me early shall ye find Me,
  For I hear and I will neither sleep nor slumber,
My special love I give to them that love Me,
  And you are destined, child, to be among that number.

 

When you gather, two or three, there in My name,
  To My bosom how I yearn to gather you,
To give you peace and fill your cup to over-flowing,
  To fly you home to pastures green beyond the blue.

 

O, my child, there's been no peace in heaven
  Since war was caused by Lucifer that day,
But soon the controversy will be ended,
  And peace will be established then to stay.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: 8-22-90. S.S. lesson inspiration.

 

 

 

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Praise Song

Thank you, Lord, for transformation and
  reclaimation of my soul,
For wiping out the grit and grime to cleanse
  and make me whole.
When I stand before the judgment seat and
  Your eye o'er me does scan.
I thank You so for Jesus Christ and that Your
  eye sees only Him.

 

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: Inspired by S.S. lesson. E. 10-22-90.

 

 

 

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Flurries

Curling, whirling, twirling is the snow,
Admiration makes my eyes and heart aglow;
I can't make a snow flake, no matter how I try,
But seeing lacy flakes opens up my inward eye;
And Admiration for our Lord enfolds me now -
Someday, sitting at His feet He'll tell me how.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: 4-3-92.

 

 

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New Typewriter

 

The typewriter is a wonderful thing!
  Goes so fast it makes my heart sing.
It can capitalize and indent.
  Even when it was not my intent -
Just hit a wrong key and how fast it goes
  From irratic convulsions it goes to repose;
When that was not my idea at all.
  And how to "fix" it I just can't recall.
So get out the new book,
  And have a long look,
And pray that the page I can find
  To "fix" the machine and relieve my mind.
Then begin again and hope I can remember
  The page it was on-was that in December?
Why buy a machine that can calculate,
  Correct spelling and then retaliate?
It slips and slides and buzzes and dings,
  At the end of the line a little bell rings.
I know the machine has many "smart",
  Combinations of keys and electrical parts,
It is quiet and smooth and knows its own mind.
  So I must learn as it has many rules to find.
And to conquer and rule it I must -
  And I'll learn to do it or BUST!

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: December 1993. Typewriter belonged to the church office, I being a secretary was free to use it.

 

 

 

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To Frances Fitzwater

Your card received.
The hills perceived,
Which brought the teardrops stinging.

When born of hills,
The heart-beat thrills,
Nostalgia bells start ringing.

 

From nestled home
You ne'er would roam.
Ancestral quest fulfilling.

 

Invitation to visit -
Plans future are in it,
For I am more than just willing.

 

Now I am of the age,
It's on the "next page",
And I hope it is not just a vision.

 

To see the old stones.
Where lie the old bones,
Genealogy's tree is the reason.

 

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: 1995. Frances Fitzwater is a cousin to Pete (my husband) about genealogy.

She is (was) school teacher and writes verse also. ECP.

 

 

 

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Conviction

 

Something like a magnet drew me to the cross that day.
I didn't want to leave and I didn't want to stay.
My eyes were drawn to gaze upon those nails that held Him there - -
I turned to go, then recognized my finger prints so clear
Upon those spikes, upon those nails, the nails that held Him there.

 

I raised my eyes and saw a crown of thorns upon that brow.
Who could be so cruel to press them there and then allow
The blood to course down o'er His cheeks -- then horror filled my soul.
My finger prints showed plainly there upon that crown He wore:
My finger prints upon the nails and now upon the crown He wore.

 

In awe I turned away but was soon compelled again to view --
And I peered through growing darkness and suddenly I knew
That sword that pierced his side -- I didn't want to see --
That cruel sword that pierce His side was guided there by me.

 

Something like a magnet drew me there that day.
I didn't want to go and then I didn't want to stay.
"God, forgive them for they know not what they do",
It was with anguish in my heart I heard Him say, and knew
That I was there that fateful day - and perhaps you were there, too.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: November 1988.

 

 

 

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The Ice Storm

 

Is it ice or is it glass?
It's pure diamonds is my guess.
See the sparkle, see the shine,
'Tis the joy of wintertime.

 

Trees are bent with weight of ice,
Picturesque - it's very nice.
Large and small, the bushes shimmer.
Shining, sparkling, all is glimmer.

 

A fairyland in all it's glory,
Silence, flashing, tells the story.
The beauty's seen by sun and moon.
But now, perhaps, you wish it June.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: Rev. February 1994. Ice storms again in 2008 in Oklahoma. E.

 

 

 

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A Rainbow?

 

He sends the sunshine and the rain,
The dark clouds and the rainbow.
He gives surcease from the pain.
The pain we feel on earth below.
Our pain can nowhere here compare
With Heaven's pain our God did share
With Jesus' pain there on the cross.
So now we share with God our loss.
He says He knows just how we feel,
And Satan's reign He will repeal.
So now 'its' time to cease our weeping,
Because our lives are in His keeping.
The One who sacrificed His Son,
That all our hearts may now be won.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: 5-25-2008. Some little time after Tom's death. We miss him so.

 

 

 

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Justice and Mercy

There are Christian folk among us that we look up to.

They are so perfect, just the best we ever knew But being human, one sad day one fell, Not then for heave but was destined now for hell.
"This church is not for me with that man here,
He should be stoned and she with him, that's clear."
I thought of Jesus as He wrote upon the ground,
He didn't speak of sin or lust, just looked around
And standing said, "Let he that is without sin
cast the first stone", and we knew we all were kin,
And the BIble says 'don't carry tales to be the speakers'
'But let the wheat and tares co-mingle for the reapers'.
Just go ahead and do the best you can,
And know all things are cared for in His plan.
We know we have seen a great loss,
But remember the thief on the cross.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: 6-6-08

 

 

 

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"Old Faithful"

It's beyond my comprehension,
How one's car becomes extension,
To one's way of this existence,
May car extends the distance,
That lets me travel near or far,
Makes me so thankful for my car.
Sometimes my car now needs repair,
As to the cost I do not care.
We both are old and need come care
Our polish gone - we're quite a pair.
Forge the cost that makes a tank full,
For "Old Faithful" I'm so thankful.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: Ode to my old '89 Buick. 4-15-2008.

 

 

 

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Life

 

My muscles are weak, and bones do creek,
  For this is now my condition.
But time flies by with no time to cry.
For now this is my position.

 

No use to be fretful, even tho' I'm forgetful,
  I still have some locomotion,
It's just an old car, I don't drive very far.
  To stir up my family's emotion.

 

I've not sunk to babble, I still can play Scrabble
  Even win a game now and then,
So I'll just be grateful, my feet are faithful,
  And hands that can still hold a pen.

 

My paint in repose, genealogy now "goes",
  And I still look up to the day,
With paint brush in hand, before easel I stand,
  Inspiration, please don't delay.

 

So I will not mope, for there is hope
  That time will not run out -
The painting is done, and it being such fun,
  So much that at times I could shout!

 

The end of the story, just give God the glory,
  That your feet and legs can still run.
Just fill life's pages, that those down the ages,
  See your poems and at times just a pun.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: 6-9-08. When I thought of this verse I was completely undressed, getting ready for the day, but I grabbed a robe & ran out to get paper & pencil & sat in my chair in the living room & wrote it. E.

 

 

 

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The human touch

By ADLAI ALBERT ESTEB

 

There are some hurts that time alone can heal,
And heartaches come that only you can feel.
So when in life your heart must hold a grave,
Then only Faith and Love can make you brave.
In such an hour mere words that might be said
Can never staunch the flow of tears we shed,
Because no other fully understands.
Yet, much strength comes from friendly, helping hands;
We need the human touch - your touch and mine -
For it reminds us of His touch divine!

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: Elder Esteb is one of my favorite poets. E.

 

 

 

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Sir Tufton of Eastfield

"Tuffy"

 

We brought Tuffy home in 1958

 

We never had him registered,
But he was, and is, registered
in our hearts and minds
forever. What a joy!

Sir Tufton

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: This is for those who remember him. I still do often. I watch 'The Thin Man' on T.V. movies because of their wire haired terrier. E.

 

 

 

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2007 Gallery

 

Two of my latest paintings. Gramma 2007.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

 

 

 

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A Letter To Cheri and Lou

 

Dear Cheri and Lou,

   You will find errors and many mistakes in measurements which I hope you attribute to "Old Age" and forgive. Because the notebook binder isn't made now. Joyce found through Wal-Mart, they would check storage and found there black ones, (I had hoped for a color). and in a size larger than I really wanted. They had no paper to fit the binder so each page had to be cut by hand, and each hole also. Can you see why the pages aren't perfect? It was tedious work but done in leisure and in my love for you. It's great to share some of my thoughts and poems with you. I hope a few might be acceptable for your news letters.

I received a call yesterday that my cousin, Lillian Conley Baugher, had died. We were not only cousins but good friends and of the same age and generation. I am 88, she is a year older. I now have only one cousin, Doris Conley Linger, who is of the same generation. She being eleven years younger than I.

Hope you approve of my poetry.

Love you,
Gramma


Photo by Evan 2008.

 

-Eileen Conley Peters

 

Note: Rev. 7:15-4-7. May 26, 1989.

 

 

 

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