Love Is

Something felt and
something done.
An action filled emotion.
Understood
by not a one.

Something that was broken.
Something
to fill its cracks.
Something that’s so human
yet everybody lacks.

Something that is given,
flowing free
from Calvary.
Something overlooked
by lost humanity.

Hell is something’s absence,
a solitude of soul.
Hell on earth
refuses
to give something control.

Something
beyond our passions.
It pushes past our fear.
Something so elusive,
yet need is crystal clear.

Something that lingers,
still present
on our world.
Something that is woven,
into every atom curled.

Something is a someone.
He set the world
to spin.
Yet He made my soul,
To him, I am akin.

Someone who is calling,
wooing
humankind.
Back into arms
that are with something lined.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Tresses

Tips bright with borrowed light.
Soaked every strand,
took command.

Roots show through in ashen huge
whisper of years demands,
open hands.

Wisps array
as standing troops,
gently falling into loops.

Crowning character.
Grounding finger,
through tresses linger.

Catching thoughts
in webs
of morning knots.

Pulled and furled,
twist or braid,
spreading gray is unafraid.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Look Beyond

Look into the eyes of difference and see beauty.

Look into the face of change to see hope.

Look beyond normal and find promise.

Face the eyes of beyond and find a new bond.

A bond, unafraid to go beyond.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Hosanna Joy

Her lips were purple,
her face a powder white.
I knew my baby sister wasn’t right.

“She’s now in heaven,”
said a mother torn in grief.
“For the first time she knows relief.”

An unfinished pine box,
made by my father’s hands.
Everyone in a daze of funeral plans.

“Goodbye baby sister,
there are few as strong as you.
We won’t forget battles you fought through.”

Holding tight the ribbon,
my balloon dark maroon.
Let it go. Watch the crowd disperse too soon.

Just a memory
in a five year olds mind.
Deepened with my seasons and outlined.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo of Hosanna Joy and Mary Grace.

Bubble Hunting

A sheet of ice that spans the street, black like darkest slate.
From underneath water seeps, through clogged and rusting grate.
Bubbles trapped under ice dance despite the cold,
as little boots sliding fast can find no proper hold.

Back and forth, ghost like in sheen, the bubbles bounce and bob.
Weight is shifted up above. Stomp! That did the job.
One bubble popped. White rings are left to mark the impact’s crack.
How many can be caught and taught with a well aimed mighty thwack?

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Christmas Crystals

With dampness in the air they cling
to just about everything.
Every limb is painted white,
making night a bit more bright.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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December Night

Mantle of lights above my head
fixed on a map of midnight blue
shining silver blue and red
so close, yet eons over head.

They only wink with my own blink
a steady stream of glistening
shining bright, yet light, I see
is all ancient history.

A vastness more than mind can hold
yet I behold December’s night
stand on my globe of living rock
that spins with the celestial clock.

Count the numbers, multiply,
as the universe flies by,
here I stand a single speck
in heaven’s sum.

December night clear, bright,
gifted glimpse of creations might
never a doubt in my mind
stargazing, meant to remind.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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He Keeps Me

I asked the Lord to keep me brave
Hold my chin above the wave

Lend me strength to tread the line
Close my mouth to deadly brine

Whether rescue comes for me
Or in death, I am set free

I asked the Lord to keep me brave
As I swim above the grave

Not a promised morning sun
Still, I know that we have won

He owns night as well as day
At my side, I know He’ll stay

I asked the Lord to keep me brave
Or to despair I would be slave

Though I’m weary of the waves
I thank the Lord he keeps me brave

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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Remembering Grandpa

Original painting by Mary Grace van der Kroef

Remembering the smell of you
Sawdust, rich and fine

Remembering the touch of you
Prickly whisker hugs at night

Remembering the sight of you
Hands dipped in earth

Remembering the sound of you
Low, gentle, holding mirth

The card games played,
the things you made,
the books you read to us.

Did you know you
left these things?
Treasures, truth, trust

Remembering the things you taught
Gods generosity

Remembering is all I’ve got
Remembering you, loving me

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

King of Blue

Original painting by Mary Grace van der Kroef, on 8″ by 8″ canvas board.

In the early morning gray,
I see you.
In the trees that shed their leaves,
I see you.
King of birds of blue.

You’re a brightness in the morn,
clouds are filling up with scorn.
As bits of white fall,
you’re the brightest blink of all.

Heaviness is falling down.
Let it fall.
Building on the pointed posts.
Let it fall.
You’re still a king through it all.

Blue because of shifting light,
magnificent through winter white.
Unafraid to face the chill,
that amplifies your royal thrill.

Don’t fly away my Kind of blue.
I’ll look for you.
For the frozen months, remain.
I’ll look for you.
Jay of Blue, my morning view.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020