The love we had is not lost by death
It lives with us forever
Our children and our grandchildren
Are part of you and me
And someday when this life is over
I’ll be with you forever
Mary Francis Kierepka
3/17/1932-9/28/2017
Children playing by the fireside
On a cold and winter day
Mothers working in the kitchen
Singing softly all the way
Clothing hanging on the clothesline
Flapping gently in the breeze
Cows are laying in the barnyard
Chickens scratching where they please
Raindrops dancing on the window
While I am snuggled in my bed
Mary Francis Kierepka
3/17/1932-9/28/2017
Speak to me softly
My love in the wind
The whisper of the trees
Will bring it to me
Speak to me through
The song of the birds
You are always near me
I hear every word.
Your love is in the wind
That blows in the trees
In the gentle rain
And the roaring seas
I see your face in the rainbow
And the stars that shine so bright
You are always near me
As close as the night
Mary Francis Kierepka
3/17/1932-9/28/2017
How beautiful the flowers are
Across the meadowland
They look like they were planted there
By some invisible hand
As you ride along the highway
And the road along the way
Their colors are like rainbows
As in the wind they dance and sway
You can see some pretty flowers
People plant with bowed heads
But they’re not quite as beautiful
As God’s own flowerbed.
Mary Francis Kierepka
3/17/1932-9/28/2017
I know that God can show the way
If we only seek and pray
Trust in the Lord with all your heart
Seek and you shall find
God will be with you all the way
Though rain and fog may blind
Mary Francis Kierepka
3/17/1932-9/28/2017
Deep in the shadows of my life
I hide my sorrow
For all the things I did not do
I could not find the time
I did not find the time
And then it’s gone.
Mary Francis Kierepka
3/17/1932-9/28/2017
When we are children, very small
Around our mother’s knee
We think the time will never come
When we are grown you see
Then we are teens we hang around
It seems so very long
“When will we be adults?” we say
And be out on our own.
Then we are young adults
With children of our own
We run around this busy life
When will they be grown?
And then we’re old we ask ourselves
Where has the years all gone?
We turn around a time or two
Then we are all alone.
Mary Francis Kierepka
3/17/1932-9/28/2017
