Repentance is the key, a gift, the way, and an opportunity.

Repentance Repentance
A gift, an opportunity, A matchless gift,
The key, and the way. The way back to God,
The ultimate opportunity

“Hello, Marian, how are you today?”
“I’m simply wonderful!”
“Really? But your husband just died!”

Father, to Thee I now give
My life—help me to live,
As Thou would have me to be,

To be sung to the tune of, “O Thou in Whose Presence”

Behold, in the field how the tree gives its light, (1 Ne. 8:9-10)
And bears fruit in every month; (Rev. 22:2)
The beauty thereof is a joy to the sight, (1 Ne. 11:8)

I had a thought on this gray morn,
A thought that gives me pause;
A lot has changed since I was born,

I was hoping you’d get up today,
I’m glad you’re still alive;
After all, it isn’t every day

“Do not ask for that which you ought not.” (D&C 8:10)
You ought not seek what should not be sought. (Jacob 4:14)
You ought not think what should not be thought. (Mosiah 4:30)

Hands outstretched in front of me,
Not a glimmer can I see;
Carefully groping through the dark,

Incongruities, I see,
Are what give us irony.
Results that were expected,
Differ from those exacted.

Without money,
Without price,
Free.

Forty years is a drop in the bucket of eternity.
It’s nothing at all in the cosmos,
or placed next to God’s plan.

O home beloved wher-e’er I wander,
On foreign land or distant sea,
As time rolls by, my heart grows fonder
And yearns more lovingly for thee!

For over fourteen hundred years
There wasn’t a soul on earth Baptism
Who could be freed of fears and tears

She walks with slow and measured tread,
Her joints are worn and cause her dread;
She is the last leaf on the branch

A close community of Saints,
Unlike another anywhere,
Where enmity and sin don’t taint
The purity of feeling there.

Eighty years in the preparation
Brought changes that were incremental;
But looking back in retrospection

“Try to be the last one standing,”
My president thoughtfully said;
“This isn’t something I’m demanding,

I love to hear you sleeping
As we lie here in the dark,
While I the watch am keeping,

Benjamin Caleb Bradford, His parentage selected,
Fresh from heavenly realms, Prepared with utmost care,
Helpless in his new world, His Father directed

We thank thee Lord for thy commandments,
The lamps that light the narrow way,
Our access to thy great atonement,

God made two great lights;
The greater light
To rule the day,
And the lesser light

The other morning I dozed off. I awoke with a 4-line poem I’d composed in my sleep:

Additional verses for the hymn

(Other additional verses on page 29)

Ye did not choose me,
You I have chosen;
I have ordained you

Daughter’s son,
4 a.m.,
four days old

Kevin, and his golden-haired boys,
Who are normally so full of noise,
Sit so quietly with him now,

I’m happy that I married you,
With all I am content;
It matters not what else I do,

Well, the evening falls and the kids all come,
They’re at the door with their daughters and sons,
The house fills up and the fiddles come out

When I look at him, I can’t see me,
He’s much too close to eternity;
His hairs are white, and his head is bald,
He’s wrinkled, and his manner is mild.

He’s just two-years old,
And one-quarter me;
A pleasure to hold,

Josiah Nathan, child of charms,
Lying calmly in my arms;
Snuggled here so quietly,

Thirty-four years a mother;
Thirty-four call her mom;
It’s doubtful there’s another,

Insecure boy
Marries less-than-capable girl,
The headline might have read,

First verse—all sing together, (as written page 294 of hymnbook)

There is beauty all around When there’s love at home;
There is joy in every sound When there’s love at home.

A prism hung in our window one morn
Casting rainbows all around the room;
Rainbows and dirt did our floor adorn,

The only things equal to well-worded rhyme
Are wordlessness, silence, and well-practiced mime.
Adding some adjectives to everyday speech
Will never put Shakespeare within talent’s reach.

Vital or vile?
Necessary or nice?
Worthless or worthwhile?

Additional verses to the Primary song

Spencer was a prophet, kept his journal well,
Asked us to do likewise, who could ever tell,
When our meager writings might affect all men,

Additional verses for the hymn

(More additional verses on page 44)

If ye would love me

An additional verse to the hymn

Because I have been given gifts then I will strive,
To find and share my gift each day that I’m alive,
If I neglect to share my gift,

Teacher’s gone!—The word goes out.
Today we’ll play, tease and shout.
She’ll not know which is which,

There once was a man from Pawtucket
Who kept all his cash in a bucket.
His daughter named Nan

Grandma, aunt, helper, friend–
Sister, mother without end
Margaret “Peggy” Olive Kerns

If I agreed with her, every whit,
I’d still be far the worse for it.
I’d hear the all of every matter
And listen to her constant chatter

How can they reach
Those whom they teach
If they don’t practice
What they preach?

I love to hear the rustle
Of the wind through autumn leaves,
And listen to the silence
Of the mountains through the haze.