Spring

A lily among thorns, that is what you are;

        a captivating beauty among women.

You have taken my heart hostage, my beloved, my bride;

        you have stolen it with one glance,

        captured it with a single strand of your hair.

How satisfying is your love, my beloved, my bride!

        Your love is more pleasing than the finest food,

        your friendship more fragrant than costly perfume!

Your lips taste sweet like honey off the comb, my bride;

        milk and honey are beneath your tongue.

The scent of your nearness is like the freshness of spring.

I have set you as a seal over my heart, my bride;

        I display your companionship as an emblem on my arm.

Our love is stronger than death,

        our togetherness, more relentless than the grave.

Our love flares up like a blazing fire, a very ardent flame.

        No amount of water can quench it;

        a raging flood cannot drown it out.

If all the wealth of the world were offered in exchange for our love,

        It would be utterly insufficient.

So arise my dearest, my beauty, my bride, my love,

        and come away with me.

The flowers are unfolding in the fields;

        the birds are warming up their songs.

Let us return to the spring of our love.

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Written for Tammy Doll by her husband, Brad, on the Occasion of our 23^rd Wedding Anniversary 6-22-14

MY ROSE

I once picked a rose and the sun shook my hand,

Crystal clear dew saluted from petallic stand,

Insects sang a harmonious tune: Farewell to the Setting Moon,

While birds lullabied, I . . . cried.

Tears of joy, I cried, of joy and sorrow,

Of past and present, of day and morrow.

Rare is the beauty which rouses them both.

The line which divides our deepest emotions need not be large,

Nay, but as the sand separates earth from oceans,

Rare is the beauty which rouses them both.

When I kiss my rose, I understand,

Why teardrops fall, what God has planned.

Together our minds are a harmonious tune,

And every moment, a honeymoon.

And listen, as I may, to love’s lullaby,

Of joy and sorrow, past and present, day and morrow,

I . . . cry.

Rare is the beauty which rouses them both.

Rare is your beauty, Tammy, my rose.

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Written for Tammy Doll by her husband, Brad

LITTLE ANNIE

At the turn of the twentieth century, there was an asylum in the suburbs of Boston which dealt with severely mentally retarded and disturbed individuals. One of the patients was a girl who was simply called Little Annie. She was totally unresponsive to others. The staff tried everything they could to help her, yet without success. Finally, she was confined to a cell in the basement and given up as hopeless.

A beautiful Christian woman worked at the asylum who believed that every one of God’s creatures needed love, concern and care. So she decided to spend her lunch hours in front of Little Annie’s cell reading to her and praying that God would free her from her prison of silence. Day after day, the Christian woman came to Little Annie’s door and read, but the little girl made no response. Months went by. The woman tried to talk with Little Annie, but it was like talking to an empty cell.

She brought little tokens of food for the girl, but they were never received. Then one day, a brownie was missing from the plate. Encouraged, she continued to read to and pray for her. Eventually the little girl began to answer the woman through the bars of her cell. The woman soon convinced the doctors that Little Annie needed a second chance at treatment. They brought her from the basement and continued to work with her. Within two years, that little girl was told that she could leave and enjoy a normal life.

She chose not to leave. She was so grateful for the love and attention she was given by the dedicated Christian woman that she decided to stay and love others as she had been loved. Little Annie stayed on at the institution to work with other patients who were suffering as she had suffered.

Nearly half a century later, the Queen of England held a special ceremony to honor one of America’s most inspiring women, Helen Keller. When asked to what she would attribute her success at overcoming the dual handicap of blindness and deafness, Helen Keller replied, “If it hadn’t been for Ann Sullivan, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Ann Sullivan, who tenaciously loved and believed in an incorrigible blind and deaf girl named Helen Keller, was Little Annie. Because one selfless Christian woman in the dungeon of an insane asylum believed that a hopeless little girl needed God’s love, the world received the marvelous gift of Helen Keller.

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Author unknown.