THE ANKLE EXPRESS-Life & times of Wm Victor Gray Historical stories & pictures.: The Ankle Express - Life and times of William Vict...

THE ANKLE EXPRESS-Life & times of Wm Victor Gray Historical stories & pictures.: The Ankle Express - Life and times of William Vict...: The Ankle Express is called such because my father William Victor Gray born October 29, 1921 traveled via his two feet, which he and his...

Look Yonder......

Look yonder stands that mighty smith

Neath that grand Oak tree,

From the forge lifts a mangled form,

And very quickly a shape is born.

Hammer and anvil at his command

He diligently designs the shape he's planned,

To the water, heat treats the steel,

A plow share his plans have yield.

To till the soil and plant the seed

So man may harvest their basic need,

But lift your heads up, yet to see,

Who's the maker of that tree.

Look far beyond to ages untold,

To the maker of that man, and

The iron he shall bend and mold.

IN LOVING MEMORY OF OUR DAUGHTER,

DEBORAH MELANIE GRAY 
b.4-18-54 d. 12-19-1997

Written by:  William V. Gray   12-27-1997

Sweet Debbie died due to many variables in her

controlled life, which caused stomach cancer.

Dad handled his grief via this final tribute to his precious

daughter and our dearly loved sister.......my dear friend.

Centuries located somewhere in the past,

A name is designated to a family at last,

That name may not so eloquent be,

But, precious little moments settle close to the tree

More precious than all nuggets,

Ever found in a stream,

Or all crowned jewels,

Imbibed in a dream.

As each tiny nugget,

Appeared on the scene,

Mom & Dad glowed ever so brightly,

Excitement was keen.

One little nugget,

Third of six did appear,

T’was a joyous occasion,

In April of that year.

Precious you were,

Right away from the start,

For Jehovah, your Creator,

Gave you a loving little heart.

Yes, it t’was a precious moment,

The day you were born,

A warm place in the family,

You lovingly adorned.

Precious moments indeed,

As you’d lie in your crib,

Kicking and cooing

In your pleasant little glib.

Precious moments were had,

As you were beginning to walk,

Now add them by the dozens,

As you were beginning to talk.

As many little scratches,

And bumps did appear,

Dad and Mom’s kindly touches,

Would soothe our little dear.

At meals, seeing you,

In your tiny little chair,

How you warmed our hearts,

From your place over there.

With a heart filled with love and zest,

Jehovah will indeed award you the very best,

Kind hearts affect others

as a soothing stroke of a hand,

A touch of love is as cool water

in a desert parched land. ˜

Those precious little moments,

Have all disappeared,

Along with warm gentle smiles,

To our hearts so endeared.

Yes, those precious little moments,

All now have past,

And those kind loving glances,

You so generously cast.

But, just for a moment, dear,

You’ve past the test.

You’ll stand with your loved ones.

Among the best.

When a resurrection, there shall be,

You’ll walk the Halls of Gallantry.

You’ll stand among that invited throng,

Standing as a huge monument, eternally strong.

As a windswept gentle breeze,

Jehovah’s heart,

You’ve strove to please.

Your mind hast broadened to imbibe,

God’s written word with tempered pride.

Thine eyes have seen the good things,

Most men have strove to hide.

Thine heart has opened,

Oh, so wide,

Permitting God’s precious love,

To rush inside.