The Life and Inspiring Poetry of a Woman from Kansas.

Velma Cochren Priest Terry, daughter, wife, mother, and grandmother (1915-1999).


HOUSE of LOVE. V. Terry (Jan. 24, 1983)

HOUSE OF LOVE - January 24, 1983

If you could build a happy house where everyone would come;
Just to find a place to rest when all their work was done.
The roof would have to be made with utmost care,
So it would hold, and shelter, all who entered there.

The windows would surely be of understanding and so clear –
You could see through them and never have a fear.
The rug would be gentleness but firm beneath your feet;
Woven tight by threads of love; here, living would be so sweet.

Contentment would cover the walls so they would fairly glow;
The light would be happiness; every linen white as snow.
All the sounds would be of joy , without ever a tear-

Yes, this is where I’d like to go to live all thru’ the year.

MAGIC MOON. V. Terry (1982; musical arrangment Lou Priest)

Magic Moon / July 8, 1982 / [Music and vocal arrangements by Lou Priest.]

As we walked hand in hand and planned our days ahead:
I love you, you love me – this is what you said.

You held me in your arms and whispered soft and low;
Made a lot of promises beneath the soft moon glow.

It was just a magic moon that cast a spell on you;
As he danced across the sky and played with me and you.

I believed, and loved you too, and thought we’d never part;
Magic moon, had cast his spell and left a broken heart.

Magic moon, magic moon come cast your spell once more.
Paint those lovely clouds again, the way you did before.

Magic moon, magic moon shine down for us to see;
Cast your spell just once again and bring love back to me.

TIME. V. Terrry (1989)


Life flows down the river of time,
Going swiftly on its way.
It never waits for anyone;
Never stops for a single day.

Time is not a tangible thing
That we can see with our eye.
When we’re young it goes so slow…
When we are old, it seems to fly.

Our time clock starts to tick away
The very day we are born.
It never stops for anything;
It runs from night to morn.

Things connected with our life
Are all bound together in time.
All entwined with happiness,
And with sorrow too, we find.

It’s only made for mortality
In life it’s always by our side.
When our life is over here
Then time gently steps aside.



March 3, 1983

Winter is a lovely time, as she makes her curtsy to fall;
Every season has a place, but winter is best of all.
Watch the little snowflakes playing tag in the air;
Each one a little diamond as it dances everywhere.

Gazing out across the mountains at the scenes below,
enjoying the trees and shrubs nestled in their coats of snow.
Nature with her frosted brush hovering over the Earth below,
Knew just what would touch the heart – like an arrow from its bow.

As the fall, so is the winter; it too will have to go -
To make a place for spring with all its melting snow.
Nothing, though, can take the place of that winter wonderland.
Everything has a time according to Nature’s plan.


July 7, 1950
Step by step, thru’ life we journey; One, by one, we’re called away.
Many stumble and grow weary – few will make it all the way.
Through the shadows now we see him, but soon will come a happy day.
Don’t give up, or get discouraged, for heaven’s just a step away.
Step by step, we’re growing closer; one by one we’re going home.
There we’ll see our redeemer, and he will claim us as his own.


October 6, 1983

Among my lovely souvenirs tied with scarlet bow;
are frosty scenes of winter and a Christmas star aglow.
Sounds of singing in the air as I quietly reminisce;
Snow flakes falling softly - What’s more beautiful than this?

Then I find among my souvenirs flowers that bloomed in spring:
Roses, violets, and forget-me-knots and a butterfly with broken wing.
I see a budding cherry tree and smell its blooms in the air.
It’s time for new life to begin; feelings of spring are everywhere.

Summer, with the hum of bees, and fireflies in the night.
Barefoot children on the path walk and run in delight.
You smell the honeysuckle vine with its flowers golden sweet;
White clouds sail across the sky above the summer heat.

Then, the leaves of autumn, in full colors all so bright ;
Reminding you time has gone and another year is out of sight


August 19, 1983
I’ve raced across the mountain tops and hurled leaves in the air;
Yet softly rocked a hammock with a small child sleeping there.

I’ve thrown sand across the desert and piled it oh so high!
Screamed in the snowy blizzard drawing snowflakes from the sky.

Yet, in the stillness of the morning I’m gentle as a bird;
I can cool the aged, wrinkled brow when a sound cannot be heard.

I’m mighty when I’m angry as I hurl things everywhere;
Yet, as gentle as a whisper when a babe is in my care.

I can cool the sultry air and draw the gentle rain;
Sweep across the waving fields and ripen golden grain.

I can reach the highest mountain or walk in the valley low;
Can bring you comfort when it’s needed for God has willed it so.


COPYRIGHT 1972. Inspired by a comment of her husband after his conversion.

I lay all alone in the old city dump,
Of no use to anyone
Cast out because of wasted years,
Alone in the heat of the sun.

Then along came a man; his eyes fell on me.
He lifted me up from the dump; I was free.

Oh, I was so happy for a change to do good.
To be something more than a stick of wood.

I’d have a new home, all shiny and new.
Where I’d not be alone to live and endure.
Now I am a cabinet at work among men.
Helping teach others the way not to sin.

Now children be prayerful; dear children be good.
This is the advice of an old stick of wood.