Holiday Bandits

Christmas seems to be a time a lot of people understand,
But somewhere get lost.
They are very appreciative of their friends and family,
But just can’t meet the cost.
They think they have to buy a present of great value,
And try to find the cash.
Crime is at a higher rate. Where is it all coming from?
You shouldn’t have to ask.
So please understand that people are aware and in love with Christmas.
They are just misunderstanding the value.
Don’t be too hard on someone going to great lengths for someone they care.
That someone may be you.

12-22-1989
Written by Gail Brookshire

Another Murder

How many more will die
The victim to a crime?
When I turn around,
There is another one down on the line.
In the river, it’s becoming
A familiar place to die.
How many more will suffer?
And please tell me, Why?

10-29-1989 Sunday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: S.H.
A friend for life or death.

What I Saw Today

It was horrible, what I saw today.
I’ve never seen a child die crying.
How cruel the world has become
to know a child’s death is from no one trying.
So small and fragile, a lifeless child
lying in its mother’s arms.
When such a terrifying thing happens,
it’s not surprising that it alarms.
This child had died crying for food,
and its mouth had frozen while open.
When I saw this on the media,
I couldn’t move I was so frozen.
What has happened to this world?
And why have we become so cold?
Our hands are not suppose to kill babies.
They’re made, with love, to hold.
I can’t forget this episode.
It was something I wish had not happened.
But I know we have to do something
because these children are what really matter.

4-24-91 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

Farewell Childhood Friend

Farewell my childhood friend.
It’s time to let you go.
You have been such a comfort,
more than you’ll ever know.
It’s sad seeing you leaving.
I’m sure it must be best.
Life has long been the teacher
that keeps giving us the test.
May you find happiness
in all you venture in.
Take good care of yourself
and don’t forget your friend.

11-5-11 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)
PS… for someone no longer here 😦

At Your Grave

Beauty in a death of one,
I really loved so much.
Though I’ve been through a lot,
I’ve never hurt as such
A devastating time as this.
It’s really something new.
How can I come to deal with it,
If I don’t know what to do?
All the days we shared together,
All the smiles we gave,
I never knew there’d be a day
I’d stand here at your grave.

8-9-89 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

Knock, Knock

Sitting in my lazy boy,
I suddenly hear a knock.
As I open up the door,
I find a yellow sock.
I look around the corner side
and all around the yard.
I do not see anyone
though I am looking very hard.
A week goes by so suddenly,
I go to watch the news.
They’re talking of a murdered girl
found without her shoes.
Dressed in her yellow shorts,
one of her socks was gone.
Over on my nightstand
lays the other one.
I stare at it so very close.
I go to hold the sock
and all that I can think of
is the day I heard the knock.

7-18-89 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)

In The Woods

Help a little girl so scared, running for her life.
The man is trying to catch her, to cut her with his knife.
In the woods there is a ditch which leads her to a fall.
Turning back to find the man, he stands there strong and tall.
With force he takes this little girl and tries to take her best.
Now the little girl’s strength is put to the ultimate test.
She beats, she hits, she takes a swing, trying her best to fight.
But since his strength overwhelms, her weakness is the night.
This man rises up from her and draws the knife to kill.
You cannot wake this little girl lying there so still.
7-17-89 Written by Gail Brookshire
(by the grace of God)
I use to write about “this little girl” in many different ways without even thinking about it until a counselor I had years ago pointed it out, asking me if I would change the endings to a happy ending. I told him, “No. Because then it wouldn’t be beautiful any more.” He told me it was unhealthy to romanticize death. So I made a deal with him to write some new ones giving her a happy ending. He then starting giving me challenges to write about other things.
Now years later, I experience such fear just reading one line. They feel so evil. I was encouraged not too long ago to continue to share them, partly as a testimony as to what God did even in my writing, and to think about why they scare me so, and why I wrote them. So as I add my poetry onto the computer once again, you will see them. I still experience great discomfort in going over them… like I will pay for it. Whatever the Lord asks of me, I want to obey. Lord willing, He will help me to understand their significance. Lord willing, He will remove that fear.

Breaking & Entering

The crime was simple. The loss was hard.
He took some jewels, but gave his heart.
He entered the home that he thought was vacant.
He never expected for them to be waiting.
But when he picked the lock and opened the door,
He made his way inside to something even more.
An older man had heard the noise and came to investigate.
He saw the shadow at the door and didn’t hesitate.
To the dresser drawer he ran and pulled the revolver out,
Walked back to the living room and aimed without a doubt.
They took him to the emergency room, but it wasn’t of any use.
They called his wife to inform, that’s when I got the news.

1990 Written by Gail Brookshire
(published in Expressions, May 24, 1994 Issue, page 6)
(by the grace of God)
This poem was written at a time I was trying to understand why people I grew up with were getting into committing crimes. I wrote the last part with 3 intentions.
1. So none of my friends thought I was trying to glorify what they did in a poem.
2. To make sure no on else would think I was into doing that.
3. My effort to be sympathetic to the mothers and grandmothers of my friends who were trying to get my friends to quit committing crimes.