Poems by Jac Judy A. Campbell

Mom,
Every day must be a celebration in your
Newfound heavenly home,
But our Mother's Day is forever empty
For your children here below.
There will be no bouquet of roses,
No gifts, no cards, no hugs,
No connection to call to hear your voice
To tell you how much you're loved.
Each day I see you in my mirrors,
You're in my flowerbeds outside.
I know you live within my children
As I can see you in their eyes.
Every day I feel you're near me,
But it's just not the same.
I miss your arms to hold me.
I miss you calling out my name,
So I just want to tell you
Because you're far away
I miss you more today
Than I did yesterday.
I know you're content and peaceful
As God shines his light on you
And he showers you with joy and blessings
All the whole day through.
So happy heavenly Mother's Day, Mom.
With abundance of love from me to you,
Your daughter

Father, I thank you for the days and nights,
And thank you for this warm morning light.
For food and shelter, for your loving care,
And for all in this world that is good and fair.
Help us to be gentle, honest and true,
To show more kindness in all that we do.
To smile and be pleasant in all that we say,
To grow more loving each and every day.
To lend a helping hand, help others in need,
And to love one another as you have loved me.

Thank You, Father
Amen

If I didn't know where you came from,
If you had a different name,
Or perhaps you were a different color,
I would still love you the same.
If you lived up in the sky, or maybe in a tree,
If you could not laugh or even smile,
If your eyes they could not see.
If you could not walk upon your feet,
If your fingers were your thumbs,
If you could not sing a song so gay,
I would still love you the same.
If you were a little boy or
Maybe someone else,
If your legs they couldn't run and play,
Nor could you hear nor speak your name,
If you did not love me as I love you,
I would still love you the same.

He's not a scented flower
That fades from day to day,
Nor is he a dozen roses
In a beautiful glass bouquet.
He's not a pound of candy
Or a meaningless silly card.
His words speak blissful feelings
Of his magic spark and charm.
He's not made of pretty paper
That is torn and tossed away.
He's tough and tender a man,
Of all men,
He's my Valentine every day.
He doesn't quite taste like chocolate.
He's yummy and sweet as can be.
Nor is he a wine-and-dine-me guy.
Home cooking is more his speed.
He's not a fuzzy stuffed animal
That lays about all day.
He's round and soft, my own teddy bear
He's cuddly in every way.
He didn't come wrapped in tissue,
Nor colorful glittery gifts.
He's wrapped in the thrills and passion,
In the arms of the life he lives.
He's not much on jewels and diamonds, 
As he says for him I'll always shine.
He's always my straight-shooting Cupid.
He's my everyday Valentine.

Love sits on my shoulder and whispers in my ear.
It tells me how you love me and the words I want to hear.
Love is growing with you and filling in the gaps.
Love is our tomorrows, our future, and our past.
Love binds the ties together and secures them with a knot.
Love is our plans that we outgrew and the ones that we forgot.
Love is what we've had together, all these blessed years.
Love sits on my shoulder and whispers in my ear.

I'm going where the rainbows glow
And the clouds will never cry.
The sun will sit upon the Earth
To warm the heavens with its shine.
Where the sweetest scent of the roses
Will be carried with the breeze
To mingle with the garden fruits.
The butterflies and the bees,
The birds will sing together,
And the nights will all be day.
The stars will forever twinkle
And the flowers will never fade.
So this is where you will find me
When my time on Earth is done.
I'll go to be in this great heaven
With all of God's chosen ones.

Bullseyes and targets, marbles and darts.
Little green bugs and bicycle parts.
Frogs in their pockets, worms in their shirt.
A boy is a boy for all he is worth.

Cowboys and Indians, Gene Autry boots.
Guns in their holsters that are sure to shoot.
Big mud puddles, rocks in their shoes,
A chip on their shoulder, a black eye or two.

Little red wagon, scraped up chins,
Scuffed up pants, and old tin cans.
A laugh, a holler, a tear, a shout.
Into mischief but truly a scout.

Old clubhouses, flying a kite,
Up a tree, a fall on the bike.
Skinned up knees, bruises, and cuts.
A boy is a boy when his dukes are up

Lord, help me be the Mother
You've chosen me to be,
One parent with a loving heart,
The mother of my three.

Give me wisdom and courage.
A righteous and faithful leader I'll be,
So I may live through you, Lord,
An example of good I may be.

Teach me patience and understanding,
Grant me compassion and kindness too,
So my daughters may desire a tender heart,
Being kind, forgiving, and true.

Help me show them the way to salvation,
Lord, and the value of their souls,
So they may sustain love, hope, and faith,
That will lead them on their pathway home.

Remind me to hold them tightly
And tenderly let them go
So they might feel my comfort and love
When at times they may feel alone.

And in our body's absence, Lord,
I'm praying they may know
The only need that they would have
Is what I've instilled in their heart and soul.