Welcome to Mandy's Madhouse 

No horses in heaven?
Why, I'd rather stay outside
Unless my favorite old red roan
Is awaitin' there to ride

 

Cause my idea of heaven
Is an endless sea of grass
An azure sky, a crystal stream
A snow-topped mountain pass

 

A well-broke Texas saddle
My battered old John B
But most of all that big red horse
A ploddin' under me

 

Now I'm not knocking angels
Nor choirs of heavenly song
Nor golden streets and pearly gates
Or clouds that roll along

 

But I've no use for silver wings
A tune I cannot carry, and
While golden streets might be grand
I'd rather ride the prairie

 

I've spent my life a'wanderin'
From sea to shining sea
And that's how we'd like heaven
That old red horse, and me.

 

Copyright Madeline Baker

First Grandchild

 

Newborn child of my child,

Lingering in your eyes I see

Shadows of white-robed angels

and visions of eternity. 

 

Precious flesh of my flesh

Wondrous gift from God,

Whose tiny feet so recently

Have Heaven's pathways trod.

 

I wish that you could tell me

The things that I've forgot.

The glorious things, The eternal things,

That those in heaven are taught.

 

I wish that I could see again

The things your eyes have seen.

I wish I could remember

My first premortal dreams.

 

Newborn child of my child.

Spirit now clothed in clay,

In time your celestial memories

Will dim and fade away.

 

And so I take you in my arms

And fervently I pray

That your bright spirit might ever be

As pure as it is today

 

 © Madeline Baker.