Poems for my husband, Jerry Glover....


God in His infinite wisdom knew,

My heart would belong only to you.

Through amazing coincidences that led us to meet,

His divine plan for our lives was complete.

I know now He orchestrated every step from above,

To join us together; two hearts as one love.

I wrote the following poem in a joint effort with his daughters, Emma and Kaitlynn for Father's Day 2006. There is no greater gift a Father can give than time --

Your talents are so numerous, there’s so many that we could tell;

But we’ve comprised a list of those we know you do so well.

Our favorite, of course, will be revealed at the very last;

So you will have to wait patiently, or perhaps, read this very fast.


World’s best slinger of chicken, burgers, or even bags of trash;

Greatest clothes-washer, dog-grooomer, and our vital source of cash.

Renown softball catcher, concert go-er, coach and referee;

Best yard man, square-dancer, and connoisseur of un-sweet tea.


Bravest biker-dude, finest painter and chauffeur we’ve ever met;

Best joke-teller, remote holder, and lover of our pets.

 From wave riding to pumping iron, your talents never end;

As a master chess and pac-man player, you always play to win.


 You do have some talents we cannot live without,

Like how we know you love us without a shadow of a doubt.

We love your sense of humor and how your laughter rolls,

Filling our home with happiness shared from your precious soul.


Of all the Jerr-Bear talents, there’s one we love the most,

Your story-telling ‘bout “back-in-the-day” indeed takes all the votes.

This talent may not seem exceptional or extraordinaire,

But when you share your time with us it shows how much you care.

Happy Father’s Day 2006                                               



Poems for my daughters....

           --the story behind the following poem:  Very discouraged after seven miscarriages between Kaitlynn and Emma,  and following a negative pregnancy test on day 14 post-conception, I was questioning the purpose of spending another $90 on a vial of progesterone.  My obstetrician, Hugh Bailey, MD, had OK'ed for me to start on the hormone earlier than normal, hoping the early boost would help me carry the pregnancy past the critical stage.   I had signs of threatened miscarriage the night before I stood in line at the pharmacy contemplating giving up when I had this experience......


For My Daughter, Emma

Right before God sent you to me,

His plan for my life was hard to see.

How many times would I have to cry?

How many times would I have to ask, “Why?”


So, when you weren’t much bigger than a sunflower seed,

He gave me a sign in my time of need.

She wore a long skirt, tattered by wear,

A simple ribbon tied in her long, curly red hair.


An eccentric old lady I’d not met before,

Stood before me in line at a department store.

She touched my stomach and said out of the blue,

“She’s gonna be fine and have pretty hair just like you.”


I wanted to ask her, “How could you know?”

As she stepped out of line and started to go.

With tears in my eyes, I immediately knew,

God sent an angel to tell me about you.



Letter to Kaitlynn

How can I share what I want most to give?

Like experience and wisdom of the life I’ve lived.

How can I help you be free from pain?

Of let-downs or failures or love lost in vain.

How can I tell you which dreams to pursue?

Of love or happiness in all that you do.

How can I show you the right path to take?

Like following His leading on a road led by faith.

 How can I be the example that you should see?

To have you want to become just like me.

How can I be the best Mother to you?

By loving and sharing in all that you do.


         I’ll always cherish our “Mommy-Daughter Talks”

                                                                      Love, Mama


Poems for my sisters....

Who first taught you more about patience than you ever cared to know?

Who was the first to start preparing you for your future “Mother” role?


Who followed in your footsteps, sometimes stepping on your heels?

Who copied your mistakes, always ignoring your appeals?


Who first demanded your attention, as if it were deserved?

Who was actually taking mental notes of which memories to preserve?


These riddles all have the same answer, making it easier to deduce;

It’s ME! Your baby sister; and I’m still looking up to you.


Thank you for every gift, and every blessing, that you have shared with me;

Thanks for showing mercy in my younger years for my relentless pestering.


You can only imagine the difference in my life that both of you have made;

Especially, by following your example to listen, be still, and pray.


Thank you, Allena, for sharing Christ-like advice even when I do not ask;

The times, out of love, you must give rebuke cannot be an easy task.

I’ve learned from you, it’s not so hard to keep your heart where it belongs;

And not to be too proud to say, “I’m sorry,” when I’m wrong.


Lynnette, thanks for two gifts (to be revealed) and for your faith in me;

You knew I’d eventually open my eyes to what love should really be.

I’d thought your life would’ve been easier if you hadn’t obeyed His voice;

But strength and courage He gave us all, when you made life your choice.


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



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.