Jane Shewmaker Hale

Buffalo, Missouri

Jane was rhyming before she knew to call it poetry. She is an active partner in family businesses, Hale Fireworks/Sportswear. She is a chapter member of The Dallas County R-1 Alumni Association; Pres. Jane is a published freelance writer with magazine/ newspaper credits including a nostalgia column published weekly in County Courier Newspaper. Organizations include: Springfield Writers Guild, VP; OWLS, ORA, Heartland, and Missouri Writers Guild. Hale's first illustrated, middle school chapter book, WONDERLAND, was published in 1997. "Marriage, four sons, and nine grandchildren keep the creative juices flowing. Words are a fascination which helps me express my sharing with others."

A Teacher's Prayer

A teacher prayed this prayer at the close of Bible School.
"Thank you Lord for using me to be a teaching tool."
Thank you for enduring strength. I've needed it each day.
When faith seem to falter, I had only but to pray.
We've loved these children, Lord, enjoyed each girl and boy.
Forgive us where we failed, Bless us for each joy.
Just one question, Lord, And it's with love I dare
to wonder at my teaching. Do they really care?
Did they listen, Lord, To lessons that I taught?
Will their lives be touched by Scriptures I have brought?
Forgive me Lord for doubting, my words sound so unfair,
But, let me see just one thing to show they really care."

This teacher's prayer is echoed in pure hearts everywhere.
Do the children listen? Do they really care?
As the program ended, and older woman came,
touched her on the arm, called her by her name.
"I came to talk to you because I felt God led."
She put the doubts to rest as these words she said.
"God still answers prayers as the years unfurl,
I prayed a prayer like yours, when you were just a girl."

Promises

You promised me the moon and stars when you professed your love.
You'd climb the highest mountain, shout it from above.

Jewels, they're be no end to these. For furs I'd never pine.
The largest of the castles, these things would all be mine.

Promises are precious things, but, love and youth are bliss.
I didn't need the moon and stars. We settled for a kiss.

Time has passed and love has grown. Let's see, just for fun.
How many were you promises. How many have you done.

The kids are stars. You're my moon in our sky of love.
The mountain is the pile of bills you keep our heads above.

The jewels on my left hand. The most precious one I've seen.
If our home were any bigger I'd never keep it clean.

My memory say that leaves the furs. With one I'd be content.
Our Anniversary's coming soon. But dear! I'd never hint.

He said. "Happy Anniversary." and, he handed me a note.
I opened it in wonder. This is what he'd wrote.

The fur has not been made to match our budget, dear.
How about another kiss? Better luck next year.

Citius, Altius, Fortius

Swifts rays of sun. a flame has
begun
traveling from Olympia, Athens, to
L.A.
High hopes, famous names, Competitive
games
are enroute to Atlanta, Georgia
USA
10,000 strong, torch bearers race
along
kilometer heroes, women, children, and
men.
Cheering crowds wait for athletes to tempt
fate
The Centennial flame blazes . . . Let the Games
begin

Grace

There once was a young lady named Grace.
who wore a red bikini, twas lace.
When she jumped in to dunk,
her bikini, it shrunk.
Then, all that was red was her face.