• pjwoody88

Climbing Vine

1/3/92.

Oh to be a climbing vine . . .

Reaching ever higher.

Not content just lying here . . .

Amidst this muck and mire!


Oh to cling unto the Rock . . .

That Rock, that has no bounds,

Grasping reaching more each day . . .

His beauty to be found!


If by chance, I be torn down . . .

Not for long to stay,

But, reaching forth, to climb again . . .

On the morrow of the day!


Should I be trampled, left for dead . . .

With no hope to be found

May God breathe, life anew, once more . . .

And lift me from the ground.


Securing me, so firm to him . . .

Attached, by His own hold

Watching fruit, from deep with-in . . .

My climbing vine unfold!



Peggy Jeanine Woody

1/3/1992




This poem was written 25 days before my son lost both feet in a car accident. He lived 18 years after that, dealing with phantom pain daily!

7 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Ever So Slowly

Cherish the life He gave, for there will not be another Recall blessings, like the love received from your mother Savor the laughter, the times with family and good friends Honor all lives, those that

Apart From You

Each morning as I wake, before the Lord I bow. My day to Him I give, with humble heart I vow. I know not what the day will bring, nor how the day will end. Before my God and Savior and Spirit I will