Poems and Other Writing by
Out of the darkness of night;
Into the rhythm of somewhere,
Into the glory of light -
Come eyes to see life's motion
And ears to hear her song,
A heart of joy and sadness,
A sense of right and wrong.
With yearning for Life's Maker,
Yet bowing to the sod;
On the brink of nowhere,
Next to the heart of God.
With spirit from the heavens
And body from the earth
A soul to live forever -
This is human birth
Copyright 1968, Frances Louise Cooke, all rights reserved.
IF ONE DAY
If one day you see my corpse
And look upon my face,
Don’t expect to find me there -
I’m in a better place.
For I believe the Word of Him
Who died to set me free,
And I will live in spheres of Love
Through all Eternity.
So come, my dears, and dance with me.
Let’s celebrate with cheer.
Earth was just our training field.
The games are won out here.
Copyright 1980, Frances Louise Cooke, all rights
reserved.
Thank you, Father, in Heaven, that I have lived long enough to see death not as an end but as a beginning, as a positive rather than a negative.
Death can hold no more terror than an ice cube, for even as ice is the absence of heat, so death is the absence of life. Thank you, dear Father, that you have promised life without end. Thank you for sending your son to prove that death has no sting and the grave has no victory.
Thank you merciful Lord, for helping my unbelief. Thank you that when you set the world in my heart you provided the faith to accept eternity.
And thank you for the simple things, the daily evidences of your great faithfulness, and beauty, and truth. Thank you for revealing yourself as our intimate Friend and Teacher.
Now I know that we shall never see death, but instead the face of our Maker. This present joy is only a sampling of the wonderful homecoming, great reunion, real beginning.
Copyright 197?, Frances Louise Cooke, all rights reserved.
If it took my death to bring my family into Heaven, I’d give my life without hesitation. Much as I love my life, it is worth only as much as I give away. But I don’t brood. I only trust our wise and faithful Father to lead us on day by day, from one lesson to another and preparing each one for the joys and victories of His Kingdom. How He loves us just as we are and what a wonderful plan He has as we live for Him and delight in His works! He gives His all for me. What more can I do than give myself to all who need me here and now?
Copyright 1980, Frances Louise Cooke, all rights reserved.
"What! Measles is it
now, my dear?
You poor long-suffering dahling!
Four are having it, I hear;
Isn't that appalling!
And just last month the chicken pox,
How bad things come together!
But steel yourself for further shocks,
With all this awful weather,
You never know what's just ahead,
There's mumps and scarlet fever..."
My foolish heart in darkening dread
Is almost to believe her,
When just in time a magic word
Restores my mind to reason:
It's, "Mama," from upstairs that's heard,
'Please come up quick. I'm freezin'..."
The calm content, the joy returns
To set my spirits humming
While deep within love warmly burns
And gaily answers, "Coming!"
Copyright 19??, Frances Louise Cooke, all rights reserved.
Father's only belt misplaced
(He doesn't own suspenders),
The wheaties box top thrown away
With prizes for the senders,
Philip's cap and Richard's gloves
Misplaced in secret corners,
Eggs too hard and toast too dark --
Oh, hear the wailing mourners!
Copyright 19??, Frances Louise Cooke, all rights reserved.
Slow Down
“We must,” I said, “we have to
At simply any cost
Get all our groceries back here
Without a second lost.
Quick! Johnny, find you mittens,
Here George, I’ll comb your hair.
Oh, Richard, aren’t your shoes on?
By now we should be there.”
And so it was our habit
To race the tyrant clock
Who always seemed to drive us,
Like a thistle in the sock!
At last, in sheer exhaustion
I vowed to end his rule
And show him who was master.
Too long I’d played the fool.
This lesson we remember.
Now the wheels turn slow,
Our watchword, “Hurry never”,
Strolling as we go.
Each day is full of comfort;
Love takes precedence
Over endless milk that’s spilt
And the broken fence.
Remorse shall never haunt us,
All regrets will flee,
And Memory’s sweetest picture,
Of HOME shall ever be.
Copyright 19??, Frances Louise Cooke, all rights reserved.
Don't let me be a bubble, Lord --
A shining, vacant sphere
Enfolding perfect emptiness
Too soon to disappear --
But build in me a core so stout,
Of love so full and true,
That 'though this frame turn inside out
Still shall I be with You.
Copyright 1968, Frances Louise Cooke, all rights reserved.
Don't make me rest on Mother's Day;
It's torture so to do;
But let me stretch and move about
As ever, serving you.
Just let me know you share my love
By gladly serving others;
And don't -- please, don't -- give love to me
That you can't give your brothers.