Velma's Verses

SWEET RELEASE. V. TERRY

2010-05-30T08:01:00.002-05:00

Someday we'll bow in humble adoration
at our lovely savior's feet;
And all we'll hear is joyful praises
when our loved ones we will meet.

Now we're striving toward the prize
that He purchased for us all -
Walking daily in His footsteps
Listening always for His call.

Heartaches here are but a moment
for we are here on proving ground.
Soon will start the timeless ages,
where love and happiness abound.

There's a tugging of the spirit
Waiting for its sweet release;
Longing for Him, who redeemed us;
Waitng for that life of peace.

V.Terry
7/20/84

LEGACY OF LOVE. V. TERRY

2010-05-30T07:54:00.002-05:00

Great is the joy He brings to us
as delivers us from the past -
and opens up a new direction,
where love and peace can last.

With new hope for the futuer
and a loving hand in control -
His word to sustain us,
what relief for the soul.

The world leaves of legacy of darkness
but God's love never ceases to shine;
For like a river his love is flowing
into your heart and into mine.

The hours of our days are golden
if we quietly look to him-
receiving the healing we need
and gaining new strength to win.

Let our hearts be warmed in gratitude
as we magnify His name;
For once we've tasted of His love
we'll never be the same.

There's no time for turning back
to things that once have been!
All the glory is up ahead,
so just keep your trust in Him.

7/31/84
cVelma Terry

"FREEDOM'S SOUND". VELMA DORA TERRY

2010-04-11T16:36:00.004-05:00

Lord, watch over our home

and guard our lovely land;

If we stumble along the way

Please hold to our hand.

Give us courage to carry on

and hold freedom's banner high;

Help us to be a shining light

To all who are passing by.

A house divided against itself

Is like a house upon the sand;

It has no firm foundation.

In storms it cannot stand.

Help us to keep faith in you

So bells of freedom can still ring;

Help us to our God be true

And give thanks for everything.

Yes, we are our brother's keeper

So let us stand together;

And hold to that unchanging hand

In these times of stormy weather.

By Velma Dora Terry, April 3, 1983 (c)

HE SPEAKS.

2010-04-04T09:15:00.002-05:00

He Speaks. Velma Dora Terry (May 9, 1982)

By his spoken word God
Hung the world in space.
He took a little bit of earth
And made the human race.

When he spoke a word
He calmed the troubled sea.
Why is it so hard to believe
He could save you and me?

With his hand he flung
The stars across the sky;
Sprinkled snow on the shoulders
of the mountains high.

At his voice the birds
Everywhere begin to sing;
All he has to do is speak
And he can do anything.

When we see the lightening
Flash across the sky,
Or hear the whisper of the wind
As it is passing by-

Need we worry? Have
Any fear at all?
For we are in his hands
Until that final call.

[Velma shown here with her younger brother George Valjean Cochren ca 1928)

As a Girl in Kansas

2010-04-02T22:15:00.003-05:00

Velma called a little hamlet on the plains home: Plevna, Kansas. They lived in a small and simple house. White clapboard for a small struggling family transitioning from a failing agricultural life to the new town-based world of the 20th century. Her father found new work as a janitor in the local school and the family enjoyed being able to be with Father during the school day. One cold winter days Velma, her older sister Elva and their younger brother George Valjean would slip down to the warm boiler room where their father would have hotdogs cooking for their lunch. At home, during the summers or in the evenings, the girls would put on 'plays' and Elva would entertain with her singing and everyone would laugh. The curtain separating the bedroom would the parlor was suddenly transformed by vivid imaginations and patient parental love to a grand stage. Velma once laughed on recounting this and wryly admitted her mother had the patience of a saint to sit through all through "theatricals."

VELMA'S 'ROSE OF SHARONS'

2010-04-02T21:23:00.002-05:00

Velma always loved roses of any kind: the gentle, drooping antique variety or the wild and touseled headed shrubs running wild in an untamed yard. She often said she was better at looking at them than growing them and some of her happiest moments were in such settings as bees hummed in the warm air and a gentle breeze caressed the soul.

Valley of Flowers (1995)

2010-04-02T21:14:00.003-05:00

Terry, V. Dora and Louis Priest. Valley of Flowers. Lamar, Mo: Grafix Press, 1995. Printing was done by Grafix Express of Lamar, Mo. Graphic work and layout was done by Velma's son, Louis Priest. 47 pg; softbound;staple.

"Author's note: The "Valley of Flowers" is certainly written to describe life. Flowers bloom along the way. One day they bloom bright and rich, the next day, they are wilted and no longer beautiful. Flowers are the story of life, they will bloom forever, always sending us a message to live by."

Two of the poems in this collection were penned by son Louis Priest, "A Rose from Long Ago" and "Bright New Day."

The title was reprinted in March of 1996 and then reprinted once more in September 1996.

Book is in progress

2010-03-18T17:04:00.002-05:00

Looking forward to having it available this year. Velma shown here on left with her sister Elva.

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

2007-11-24T16:21:00.004-06:00

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)

2007-11-24T16:19:00.000-06:00

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)

2007-11-24T16:14:00.000-06:00

TIME

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.

WINTER

2007-11-06T20:50:00.000-06:00

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.

STEP BY STEP

2007-11-06T20:48:00.000-06:00

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.

SEASON'S SOUVENIRS

2007-11-06T20:44:00.000-06:00

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

WHISPERING WIND

2007-11-06T20:42:00.001-06:00

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.

MESSAGE OF THE BOARD

2007-11-06T20:39:00.001-06:00

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.