~POEM FOR THE DAY

MY "PATCH OF BLUE"

~By Mary Newland Carson~

There's a bit of sky across the street

Which I have learned to love,

One end of it rests on the house tops high,

The other on the heavens above.

It looks most beautiful at times

And has been such a comfort, too,

That when I look thro' my windowpane

I call it my "Patch of Blue."

When I think of God's great universe

With its vast expanse of sky,

And of those who can roam from sea to sea

Without a thought of why

This wondrous joy is given to them

By a God so kind and true,

I wonder if they are quite as glad

As I, for my "Patch of Blue."

I call it mine: God's gift to me,

From September until June.

It heals my hurt; it warms my heart;

And I'm sure that very soon

The lesson that it teaches me

Will warm me thro' and thro';

For it seems as though God's blessed smile

Shines thro' my "Patch of Blue."

I've seen it when light, fleecy clouds

Went scurrying 'cross its face

And made that tiny bit of sky

Look like a bit of lace.

I've also seen the storm clouds burst,

And winds go rushing thro',

But I always knew that once again

I'd see my "Patch of Blue."

I've watched it when the wintry snows

Had hidden it from sight,

But I have known full well that soon

It would once more be bright.

When sunset drops her curtain down

She turns to golden hue

That little bit of lovely sky

That was my "Patch of Blue."

When I lie upon my bed at night,

With a heart full of pain and fear,

I think of the twinkling stars out there

That shine so bright and clear.

I think of the radiant, glorious moon

Shining the whole night thro',

And I know that the morning sun will bring

Once more my "Patch of Blue."

I've looked across that bit of sky

As the twilight hour drew near,

And thought of one in that "Great Beyond"

Who was to me most dear.

He was such a very little lad,

Only four years old,

When he passed the portals thro'

And he's still waiting for me there

Beyond my "Patch of Blue."

There are other dear ones over there

Whose journey here is o'er.

I shall see them sometime, somewhere,

At rest on the shining shore.

Dear Lord! Please help my life to be

So patient, kind and true

That when at last my race is run

I can cross my "Patch of Blue."

And then one day--when I tried to look

I found I could not see.

In my despair I cried aloud,

"O God--it cannot be

That I must nevermore enjoy

This precious, precious view,

That I must learn to do without

My little 'Patch of Blue.'"

Oh! Friend o' mine! Are you shut in?

Does your life seem hard to bear?

Does your heart grow sick with longing

For the joys you once could share?

"I'll go with you," saith the Master,

And his promises are true;

So we're sure that in His blessed arms

We'll find our "Patch of Blue."

*Source of images

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