Sue's Poetry

It wasn’t long enough!

(This time for which our two paths crossed

En route to Destiny)

 

Somehow we thought they’d always last:

Those golden times we knew so well,

The moments spent with bright abandon

Like coins from a purse

That would always be full.

 

But life goes on,

And Duty bids us go our separate ways.

 

The purse is empty now,

Its riches poured into our lives.

Forever ours to cherish,

They are Friendship’s Legacy.

 

--Sue Carpenter Lucas

Oh, how could you manage without me, Love, to burn all your carrots and peas,

To accidentally starch your socks, or wash dishes—when I please?

And what would you do if I wasn’t here to borrow your pen, then lose it?

Could you find a life with a sensible wife, would you really rather choose it?

Could you stand the utter boredom of knowing (without even having to look!)

That all of your shirts were neatly pressed, and your ties hanging on a hook?

Just think of all the excitement you’d miss—the monotony that would set in—

If everything had to be spotless, in place. Grubby work-clothes would be a sin!

Then, too, I really don’t know what you’d do, without me to spend all your money;

To complicate life by just being your wife. But I do know one thing, Honey:

Though I have a few faults, and never quite manage to keep an immaculate house,

I love you as much as a wife ever could: Your devoted (if scatter-brained) Spouse.

 

--written to her husband while a newlywed

Dear Child,

I wonder whether God smiled or grimaced

When he thought of ‘earth life,’ with me as your mother?

I’m sure He knew that more than anything else,

I needed a reason to learn patience and self-discipline:

A reason beyond myself.

But how strange that after all these long years in your short little life,

After myriad anguished prayers,

Silent sobs,

Tears of frustration,

And moments of self-doubt,

I should only now begin to see the beauty of it all emerge.

You’re special; I’ve known it all along!

But when your special needs have all but drained my well-spring dry,

I’ve wondered:  Is this really what God meant by “motherhood?”

And am I equal to the task? I have but love to give;

Patience, I fear, wears threadbare all too fast.

Yet today, as I mused upon your sweet little spirit,

And pictured your uplifted face: smiling, radiant, so full of trust,

Something touched my heart. It was then I understood:

God surely must have known that your need for love

Matched my need to give, and that in the giving

I would learn far more about patience, about discipline, about order,

About loving unconditionally and without reservation

Than all the years without you could have taught me.

How truly wise God is!

With grateful heart, I’ll try to give as much to you

As you have given me!