Pictures Of Jeffery
Bedrick
The images displayed on
this site are copyrighted material and owned by the
artists who painted them.
I do not sell any of the art work represented.
Links have been provided when ever possible to authorized
sites where you might be able to obtain copies.
The Art of Jeffery Bedrick
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The
Changeling
I had a little daughter,
And she was given to me
To lead me gently backward
To the Heavenly Father's knee,
That I, by the force of nature,
Might in some dim wise divine
The depth of his infinite patience
To this wayward soul of mine.
I know not how others saw her,
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But to me
she was wholly fair,
And the light of the heaven she came from
Still lingered and gleamed in her hair;
For it was as wavy and golden,
And as many changes took,
As the shadows of the sun-gilt ripples
On the yellow bed of a brook.
To what can I liken her smiling
Upon me, her kneeling lover,
How it leaped from her lips to her eyelids,
And dimpled her wholly over,
Till her outstretched hands smiled also,
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And I
almost seemed to see
The very heart of her mother
Sending sun through her veins to me!
She had been with us scarce a twelvemonth,
And it hardly seemed a day,
When a troop of wandering angels
Stole my little daughter away;
Or perhaps those heavenly Zingari
But loosed the hampering strings,
And when they had opened her cage-door,
My little bird used her wings.
But they left in her stead a changeling,
A little angel child,
That seems like her bud in full blossom,
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And smiles
as she never smiled:
When I wake in the morning, I see it
Where she always used to lie,
And I feel as weak as a violet
Alone 'neath the awful sky.
As weak, yet as trustful also;
For the whole year long I see
All the wonders of faithful Nature
Still worked for the love of me;
Winds wander, and dews drip earthward,
Rain falls, suns rise and set,
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Earth
whirls, and all but to prosper
A poor little violet.
The child is not mine as the first was,
I cannot sing it to rest,
I cannot lift it up fatherly
And bliss it upon my breast;
Yet it lies in my little one's cradle
And sits in my little one's chair,
And the light of the heaven she's gone to
Transfigures its golden hair.
James Russell Lowell
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"The
Maid Comes In Today!"
Wash and dry the dishes
Put them all away
Sweep and mop the kitchen
..’cause the maid comes in today
I’d better dust the furniture
In the front room and the bay
Wipe the hutch in the dining room
…’cause the maid comes in today
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Run the
dustmop under the bed
Get the dustballs out of the way
Run the vacuum in the hall
..’cause to maid comes in today
Pick up all those magazines
I know just what she’ll say
And I’d better get those windows
…’cause the maid comes in today
by Sean Mc Kelvy The Poet Of Alamo
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The images
displayed on this site are copyrighted material and owned
by the artists who painted them.
I do not sell any of the art work represented.
Links have been provided when ever possible to authorized
sites where you might be able to obtain copies.
The Art of Jeffery Bedrick
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