Mary Fowler Akron, Ohio

Mary is a seventy three year old grandmother, having been happily married for forty one years, she is now a widow. Her poem, "Missing You", was written in loving memory of her husband, Allen. Although Mary has been writing poetry since she was a teenager, she has never tried to have her works published until recently. She has had two poems published by The National Library of Poetry. Mary has three children, seven grandchildren, and three great grandchildren. She says she is inspired by her love of God, family and high and low periods in her life.

Missing You I miss you when the sun comes up each morning; I think of all the days we used to share. To lie in bed would only make it harder, Knowing, Dear, that you will not be there. They said that time would somehow make it better; That missing you would cease to rule my life. And so I play a part and none's the wiser, But still the pain keeps stabbing like a knife. You took a breath and then it all was over; I didn't have time to whisper my good bye. I never knew my life could be so empty, I never knew how much my eyes could cry. So now I smile and say that I am happy; Even though we are so apart. I'll wait for time to ease my pain and sorrow, And missing you will stay deep in my heart.

Leaves Of Fall They're falling now across my yard, I must go and find my rake. As once again I start the race To beat the first snow flake. The old oak tree that stands so tall And stately as a queen, All through the spring and summer months Was robed in leaves of green. Now those leaves have changed there hue To red and gold and brown, And with each whisper of the wind Come tumbling to the ground. As I rake and bag those leaves of fall, Somehow I just know That old oak tree is laughing at me As I try to beat the snow.

The Miracle Of Life One Morning in May I arose from my bed, Stretching, squinting, and yawning; I looked out my door and to my surprise I saw beneath my awning; A robin's nest, so sleek and trim And in the center resting, With eyes half closed, sat Mother bird Patiently nesting. For two more weeks I watched the scene Unfolding before my eyes; And then today when I looked up I saw to my surprise, Three small bird with open beaks, Waiting for their food. Another of God's miracles, To prove He's great and good.

All poems Copyright © 1996 Mary Fowler. All rights reserved.