Family Poetry by Harriette Marshall Glover

Poem for my father, Lynn Graham Marshall....

For so many years, I could not comprehend or begin to understand why,

You chose to live the life of a servant, a life full of sacrifice.

I was certain that the road you had chosen was not the one for me.

I had no desire to forsake myself just to meet other people’s needs.

I would often question, how on this earth could you not possibly realize,

All the things that you were giving up by choosing this way of life?

You were always last, putting others first, in everything that you’d do,

Never seeking praise or ever expecting an act of gratitude.

When I’d get discouraged, you would sit me down and you’d explain,

Expecting glory only for one’s self would be to serve Him all in vain.

I am sure you thought all of the lessons that you tried so hard to share,

Fell upon deaf ears, were forgotten, or were left hanging in mid-air.

The times when I chose not to seek His will in decisions I had made,

You offered counsel, never judging, then on bended knee you prayed.

I now know the paths I have chosen were all a part of His plan,

Over every hill and through each valley, I was always in His hands.

To better serve Him and reach others, our Heavenly Father knew,

The heartaches I would experience could be a testimony, too.

Even today, as I recall the precise moment that I was shown,

How special a man my father is, the tears will start to flow.

A friend had shared a book with me, I thought by coincidence,

It spoke to my heart, and revealed to me all the joy I had missed.

I realized seeking what the world could offer me never would compare,

To blessings received from the years of service I had seen my father share.

To hear someone say, “You’re just like your dad,” still takes me by surprise,

How could I ever be compared to you in someone else’s eyes?

I’m thankful God decided you’d be the one to show me how to live,

All that I have learned from watching you is such a precious gift.

Your gift is shared with my children, now, as I try to walk in your shoes,

Attempting to follow your example in this life I came to choose.

He called you, because He knew, you’d do so much more than preach,

Your actions would gain more souls for Him than any sermon could ever

reach.

Poem for my mother, Faye Rogers Marshall...

My Mama

My Mama is my sounding board,

She’s always there for me.

I never have to wonder,

My friend she’ll always be.

If our resemblance wasn’t unmistakable,

I’d think I was switched at birth.

She’s patient, loving, gentle, and kind,

All the things I wish I were.

She never liked to be the one

To have to discipline her own;

There’s no telling how many times she said,

“Wait ‘til your Father gets home.”

Although she tried her best to teach me,

How children should behave.

I’d escalate my shenanigans,

The more effort that she gave.

“Train up a child when they are young”

That has always been her goal;

She trusted what He promised,

That I’d return when I was old.

I used to ponder the reason,

For those years skipped in between;

But my Mama understood its meaning well,

To live with  me as a teen.

I know she’s finally breathing

Several sighs of relief;

Her baby daughter has found her way,

Standing  strong  in her beliefs.

From my father I got my people skills

Never have I a loss for words.

But from my mama, I got a gentle heart,

It just took a while to emerge.

Poem for my (Great) Aunt June....

Although we’re not together,

         we’re not that far apart;

God sent someone on your behalf

         to place you on my heart.

I pray you will find comfort,

         so you may rest with ease;

Always believing in His promise

         that He will bring you peace.

I pray you find contentment,

         remembering days gone by;

Seeing clearly all the moments

         when God has touched your life.

Looking back, you might discover

         your most cherished memories;

Are the random acts of kindness

         you weren’t expecting to receive.

I pray that you’ll remember

         nothing ever happens by chance.

God knew just what you needed,

         and put you in that circumstance.