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View original poems by Richard Doyle, available in 8 X 10 in. classy frames with glass front, on specially designed cream paper with tan & white daisies.

 

Borrowed Blessings



Borrowed Blessings

(song)

The gift I got on my ninth birthday

Wore a ribbon on his head

Then he chewed up all my presents

That night he slept upon my bed

He was there for me in the good and bad

Walked for years right by my side

I never knew how much I'd miss him

‘Til the morning that he died



- chorus -

He was just a Borrowed Blessing

One of God’s great gifts to me

Sometimes we think we own these moments

Only to find that we don’t even hold the keys



 

She liked to wear pink ribbons in her hair

And he wore a crooked tie

It was picture time at school that day

And as the bus drove away I’d cry

And I was always there, made sure they combed their hair

But no matter how hard I tried

I couldn’t keep them from growing older

And now they’re taking my car to drive


- chorus -

They were just a Borrowed Blessing

One of God’s great gifts to me

Sometimes we think we own these moments

Only to find that we don’t even hold the keys



 

Now the trees seem so much taller now

The valleys a little deeper.

I’m moving much more slowly

And the stairs are a little steeper

Last year the girl I loved made her final climb

And as for me well, it’s a matter of time


Life is just a Borrowed Blessing

One of God’s great gifts to me

Sometimes we think we own these moments

Only to find that He is holding all the keys

So treasure all the loves you find

For they might soon leave you behind

They’re simply Borrowed Blessings

God’s special gifts

His special gifts of time

They’re simply Borrowed Blessings

God’s special gifts

His greatest gift of time.




Co-written by Richard Doyle & Ron Miller

 

 

(original poem)
They're simply Borrowed Blessings.
The special gifts of time.
We think we own the moment,
Yet the moment is sublime.
So cherish the love around you.
Give it all that you can find.
They're simply borrowed Blessings.
The special gifts of time.
 
My gift on Christmas morning
Wore a ribbon on his head.
He chewed up all my presents.
At night he slept upon my bed.
He was there in times of sorrow.
Walked for hours by my side.
I never knew how much I'd miss him
'Til the morning that he died.
 
She wore her hair in ribbons,
And he a crooked tie.
The sandbox kids I cherished,
Now taking my car to drive.
Where are my little toddlers
Who caused me so much "strife"?
They're driving themselves to school,
And soon driving off to life.
 
The trees seem so much taller now,
The valleys a little deeper.
My movements a little slower.
The stairs just a little steeper.
The love of my life is gone now.
For me just a matter of time.
They're simply Borrowed Blessings.
God's special gifts of time.
 

 

 
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Our Song




In dreams, as in life


In art, as in song

 

 

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Remember When




 Remember when the darkness didn't have a light?

Remember when the blades of others actually cut? 

Remember when your shouts were never heard? 

Remember when you felt alone in a crowded room? 

Remember when conversations never reached your ear?

Remember when your laugh was just a mask?

Remember when truths were just lies?

Remember when blankets were your only shields?

Remember when the tiniest victories made you cry?

Remember when the world could go to hell?

Remember when good news shielded bad?

Remember when the final blow wasn't the final?

Remember that friend who was there for you?

I do.
 

 

 
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Artist Eyes




His eyes they'd see a mountain
That wasn't really there
Or a strand of auburn color
on a lock of golden hair
And reflections that blinded others
To him were diamonds bright
And when others stared at darkness
His eyes could see the light
Through artist eyes
Through artist eyes

Time can heal the heartaches
But sometimes not the pain
When the world longs for sunshine
It often gets the rain
Yet dark clouds on the horizon
Are always followed by sun
When brushstrucks work their magic
And the colors start to run

Through artist eyes
Through artist eyes

His canvas is a mirror
Of a world his eyes could see
And God made him a vessel
That could put it down for me
But now sits in the corner
A canvas of empty white
For now my eyes see darkness
Because his now see the light
Through artist eyes
Through artist eyes

 

 
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Click to see full size image

Butterflies on the Wind



(see video link at the end of the poem)
 
From a sheltered cocoon
We long for the day
When our independence
Wisps us away
To face the challenges
Of an uncertain world
Anxious and fragile
With new wings unfurled.
 
 
We climb upon winds
Knowing not where they lead
As they dictate a path
We're hastened to heed
Pirouetting atop
Of their powerful crests
Dancing on air
with a butterfly's zest.
 
 
We often seek refuge
Among flowers or trees
Longing for shelter
In search of true peace
For sometimes the wind
Has a mind of it's own
And as dust clouds settle
We see we have grown
 
 
For the path we've "chosen"
Is really God's breeze
A struggling flight
Until we concede
That our destiny in life
Is really through Him
For until we do that
We're just
 
"Butterflies on the Wind".

 

CLICK HERE For video of "Butterflies On The Wind"

 
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