My Little Brown Piano

This is a fun little apostrophe towards our beloved piano. There have been so many moments when I would sit upon the piano bench, yearning to play yet not knowing what to play. Sometimes, as my fingers dance over the keys, the piano moves me to play a certain piece, a certain song, a certain music for the day.

My little brown piano,
What music have you
Prepared for my fingers today?
A butterfly’s shadow,
A bumblebee’s flight,
Or soothing adagios to play?

A Mozart’s sonata,
A Beethoven’s song,
A waltz from some pages of Strauss?
A transcribed cantata
Concertos, chorals,
Or concerts to bring down the house?

Chopin and his nocturnes,
Impressions galore,
Or Bach and his marvelous fugues?
A new piece that still yearns
To practice some more,
A Czerny that’s yet to be used?

My little brown piano,
You’re bursting alive,
Awaiting my fingers to play.
Please echo my sorrow,
My joy, and my life
Through music you give me today.

What Will Our Legacy Be?

This is a beautiful and thought-provoking poem by Stephanie from "The Rebelution." Also included is my reply. Though many have already posted their thoughts at the Rebelution, I wonder what your response is. What will your legacy be?

What will our legacy be?
What will our children see?
Will they proudly cheer
O'er what we've left here?
Or will they hide
The evidence in shame?
What will our legacy be?
What will our children see?
Our daily life is showing
The path that we are going.
Will it point them to the One
Who gave His life away?
What will our children see?
What will our legacy be?

This is my reply:

A legacy of love, a legacy of grace
That makes man look above to God’s most holy face;
A legacy of hope, a legacy of faith
That teaches man to hold on Him through earthly days;
A legacy that leads not to my name alone,
But aids each man to heed the glory of His throne;
A legacy of gain in all eternal things,
A fitting, sweet refrain to songs the angels sing;
A legacy that yields encouragement to youth
To reach the ripened fields awaiting Heaven’s truth;
A legacy that gives not glamour nor acclaim
But through the life I live give honor to His name.

Help Me Trust Thee, Father God

This is my attempt at "Fanny Crosby" poetry. The theme of this hymn is indeed similar to several of my previous posts. And yet, who could ever trust God less than he should? May this poem be an encouraging prayer to all my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Help me trust Thee, Father God,
Though troubles may arise,
Seeking e’er They staff and rod,
And seeing through Thine eyes.

Help me ever to rely
Upon Thy providence;
Help me ever to comply
With what Thou blesses hence.

And when things be smoothly run,
Please help me not forget,
That all things beneath the sun
Were by Thy power set.

Keep in me a tender faith
That holds through every pain,
Knowing that whate’er Thou saith
Shall soon be rendered plain.