Welcome

Welcome to my blog http://www.skegley.blogspot.com/ . CAVEAT LECTOR- Let the reader beware. This is a Christian Conservative blog. It is not meant to offend anyone. Please feel free to ignore this blog, but also feel free to browse and comment on my posts! You may also scroll down to respond to any post.

For Christian American readers of this blog:


I wish to incite all Christians to rise up and take back the United States of America with all of God's manifold blessings. We want the free allowance of the Bible and prayers allowed again in schools, halls of justice, and all governing bodies. We don't seek a theocracy until Jesus returns to earth because all men are weak and power corrupts the very best of them.
We want to be a kinder and gentler people without slavery or condescension to any.

The world seems to be in a time of discontent among the populace. Christians should not fear. God is Love, shown best through Jesus Christ. God is still in control. All Glory to our Creator and to our God!


A favorite quote from my good friend, Jack Plymale, which I appreciate:

"Wars are planned by old men,in council rooms apart. They plan for greater armament, they map the battle chart, but: where sightless eyes stare out, beyond life's vanished joys, I've noticed,somehow, all the dead and mamed are hardly more than boys(Grantland Rice per our mutual friend, Sarah Rapp)."

Thanks Jack!

I must admit that I do not check authenticity of my posts. If anyone can tell me of a non-biased arbitrator, I will attempt to do so more regularly. I know of no such arbitrator for the internet.











Sunday, June 28, 2015

Crabby Old Man ... A most deserving and real repeat for us seniors ... Thx Gary and Jill I !





CRABBY OLD MAN
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte, Nebraska, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Missouri. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health.  A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. 
And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.
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Crabby Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . when you're looking at me?
A crabby old man, . . . . . not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .  . . ... with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food . . . . . .. and makes no reply . 
When you say in a loud voice . . . . "I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice . .. . the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . . . a sock or a shoe?
Who, resisting or not . .. . . . lets you do as you will, 
With bathing and feeding. .. . . the long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?  . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . you're not looking at me..
I'll tell you who I am.  . .  as I sit here so still, 
As I do at your bidding, . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten .  .. with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . . . . who love one another.
A young boy of sixteen . . . . with wings on his feet 
Dreaming that soon now . . . . . a lover he'll meet..
 
A groom soon at twenty .. . . .my heart gives a leap.
 
Remembering, the vows . .. . that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five, now . .. . . . I have young of my own. 
Who need me to guide .  . and a secure happy home.
A man of thirty . . . . . .  My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other .. . . With ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons . . . have grown and are gone, 
But my woman's beside me . . .. to see I don't mourn.
At fifty, once more,  . . babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . .. . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . .my wife is now dead. 
I look at the future  . . . . ..  shudder with dread..
For my young are all rearing . . . young of their own.
And I think of the years,. and the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . and nature is cruel. 
Tis jest to make old age .. . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles ... . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . .. . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . . . a young guy still dwells, 
And now and again .. . . . my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . .. . gone too fast. 
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . ... . open and see.
Not a crabby old man.   Look closer .. . see ME!!


Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within ... . . . we will all, one day, be there, too! 
PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM 
The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched.. They must be felt by the heart.

God Bless All who read this Poem
 
and send it to those on
"YOUR"
 mailing list

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