From Harold, my tax attorney for over 30 years: Used with his permission.
The Old Broken Bat
It was just an old, broken bat, but it was mine
The team didn’t want it, but for me, it was fine.
Dad got it from the school, the handle covered with tape.
For a preschool boy, it was in good, usable shape.
Throw it over my shoulder, and it would almost touch the ground.
Try to swing it as hard as I could, and it would almost go around.
I could use it, and imaginary baseball I would play.
Sometimes, in life, we get broken and useless, so it seems.
But there is always enough love to restore those dreams.
In god’s hands you are not ready to be thrown away
He has a purpose for you, as in His love you stay.
Reach out to those who are worn and broken,
And see that kind words of love are spoken.
Sometimes you feel like that “Old Broken bat,” thrown away.
But remember, you still have great value, in your unique way.
Take the old broken bat in your life and swing it proudly,
Let it speak for you, often and loudly.
“I’m here, and I’m useful and not beyond repair.”
Put on that smile and wear it everywhere!
Harold 09/19/14
Walking on Sand
Two old codgers walking on the sand.
Shuffling along, hand in hand.
The song of the gull, the roar of the surf, music to their ears,
Sounds that are still the same after all those years.
Stop and reach down for a stone, a shell or a piece of wood,
“The wind’s getting chilly, dear, better pull up your hood.”
A glance, a smile, a twinkle in the eye.
Silently remembering happy days gone by.
“Getting a little tired? Time to go back to the car?”
Turning around, “Oh my, have we come that far?”
What’s this? Amazing how young they feel.
Start back to the car, a new spring in their heel.
Two old codgers walking on the sand.
No more shuffling, but stepping out, hand in hand.
Harold
05/29/04
The Bed
She was moved from the hospital to rehab and assigned a bed.
Her mind was fogged with drugs, and every event was faced with dread.
The pain was apparent with every word she spoke that day.
She begged her husband not to go home but to stay.
“I’ll move over, you can share my bed tonight.”
But he had to go and leave that heartbreaking sight.
He returned the next day to spend as much time as was needed.
Remembering the night before, how for him to stay, she pleaded.
Here is the story of an event during the previous night.
How a frightened, lonely lady handled her plight.
She was found on the floor beside that bed.
Blankets pulled around her, pillow under her head.
What are you doing?” Was the question she heard while uncomfortable and cold.
“I’m going to sleep here, so my husband can have the bed!” they were told.
“He’s coming back and needs a place to sleep,” is what she said.
For the sake of her love, she was willing to give up the bed.
The drugs wore off and the pain left over time.
But I’ll never forget the love of that wonderful wife of mine!
Harold
2011