Granddad’s Hat…

Image result for free google images of drawings of men wearing hats or caps

He stood tall, about six ft. two,

a man of great stature and mystery.

If only my granddad had had the time,

to gather the threads of past history.

I remember him to be a man of few words,

what little he said, he meant.

A quick glance from him and one instantly received,

the message that he sent.

A quiet presence, yet powerful indeed,

a man you had to respect.

His interactions were always understood,

short in length and very direct.

Amidst the serious steel-like demeanor,

you might catch a glimpse of a smile.

His hat always rested perfectly in place,

capturing his signature style.

Granddad’s hat simply added mystique,

to a man who wore it well.

One could only wonder what made him tick,

though his lips would never tell.

Granddad always wore a hat,

some may have thought he was shy.

Though none dared to ever tip the hat,

to reveal the message behind his eyes.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

God Moves

 

God can move like a soft summer breeze,

your pain and mind He will quietly ease.

God can move like thunder, with much strength and power,

He can strike at an time, regardless of the hour.

God can move like the wind that whistles through the trees,

He can arrive so suddenly, like a cold winter freeze.

God can roll in swiftly, like a river running free,

but most importantly ~ God moves me.

 

By Sylvia Porter-Hall