Grace Riffle

Winston Salem, North Carolina

My ancestors came from Germany in 1792. They purchased land in North Carolina in Davidson County. I am a charter member of a church. I am a homemaker who loves the soil and gardening . I have had poems heard on the air. I was published in the World's Fair Anthology of Verse during the year the fair was in New York City. I have been published in numerous anthologies in New York and California. I won an award in art and have had my art in a museum. I love nature and the beauty of the world. Writing poetry helps me focus on the beauty of simple things, and the good things in life.

Night Must End

Night must end,
And in the future years
There will come another dawn
To wipe away my foolish tears.
Nightly shadows must flee
Beyond the distant brink,
Bringing a glorious sunrise
That will blot out the gloom of night's ink.
Night must face
Into the endless deep,
Bringing the hope of a future day
To arouse my heart from sleep.
Yes, night will pass away;
The darkness will vanish with the night
And father on beyond the glade
I will see a beacon of light.

The Old Peach Tree

Under the old peach tree
Hearing the buzz of bees
Looking up at pink blossoms so sweet
Watching pink petals fall at my feet
Under the old peach tree almost fallen down
I can hear every sound as the sun goes down
I hear somewhere the song of a mocking bird
The sweetest song I ever heard
As I lean against the old peach tree
I think of things that used to be
This old tree brings me back to my childhood
And the many peaches I ate that were so good
Old peach tree I wish you could talk
Whisper to me some of your thoughts
But instead you fill my heart with your beauty
As I smell the perfume of your blossoms so fruity
I wonder how much longer you'll be here.
How much longer my heart you'll cheer
I hope to lean against you many a spring
And feel the peace that you bring.

Wasted Years

Wasted years that have slipped through my fingers
I can't call them back
They are but memories that linger
Through my waking hours
Dream ships that have gone to rack
On the sea of life's great destiny
Wasted dreams departed strife
A few days blooming flowers
But more have been fleeting shadows
That have darkened my life
And maimed me so
But I have reaped for reward a hallow
I would onto call them back
As crumbling dust they go.
Into vanishing years of woe