John Evans

Dear Friends, one and all,

This day is called "Presidents' Day," and much of our business activities, especially that which is national in nature, have been shut down temporarily that we might celebrate our heritage in presidential leadership down through the years. Aren't we so glad, friends, that we were born in "the good ole U.S. of A."? When one realizes that he could have first seen the light of day in one of the so-many benighted countries of this world--places where hunger, hate, disease and desperation so abound--it does cause an emotion of thankfulness to God to arise in our hearts, I'm sure you agree. Oh yes, I'm so glad today that I can affix that good word "American" to my name. I hope you give a hearty "Amen!" to this as well.

But, no, I'm not called of God through our poets' fellowship to necessarily beat the drum of patriotism, I realize, so I'll get to the poetry. And I guess I'll prefix my remarks by looking back to another significant day, February the 14th, Valentine's Day. Not only am I glad, friends, to be an American today, but I'm also glad and thankful to God that I found the good, good wife of my youth, the true friend and lover of my soul, here in "the good ole U.S. of A." I'm glad the beautiful maiden then known as Joyce Runyon came into my life away back in the year 1951 in college days in South Carolina. We've had almost 54 God-blessed years together, and how I thank God for them--and her, now known as Mrs. Joyce R. Evans. Woooo! How could I have been so blest, except through the grace of God! (By the way, Poetess Geneva Poynter of Hoffman Estates, Illinois, is celebrating fifty years of marriage this month; I've been made aware. We all here in the fellowship congratulate her and her good husband! Have many more, Geneva!)

Poet John C. Sparks of Xenia, Ohio, has given us--and me, especially (with Geneva, parenthetically noted again of course)-- in this season a fine little poem for Valentine's Day, titled, "A Heart to Keep." Seen to your right, it is an iambic tetrameter poem honoring John's wife, obviously, and is made up of eighteen lines beautifully put together. It again stirs a sweet emotion of thankfulness in my heart today--for my wife, too, this time--and I'm indebted to John for it. It's good to call to mind and heart the emotion of eros and agape love (See Colossians 3:18--in yesterday's SS lesson I taught, by the way) together with that of patriotic thankfulness noted previously.

This poem of our good Brother Sparks, who has been contributing poems to our fellowship (like Geneva Poynter) for many years, follows the unusual pattern of ABABCC in three sextets, together with several other noteable points of excellence to which I'd draw to your attention. For instance, a figure of speech in line three sees life as "your golden way"; another in line seven, "Her smile...worth far more than gold"; Personification in line ten is poignantly powerful: "...the system spews you from its lot..."; and two more figures of speech in the next two lines: you being in simile "Like so much baggage bruised and worn," and, a metaphor, "That flower called youth forever shorn!" (John may have "mixed" his metaphors here). I like too "her soul" metaphorically viewed as that which "has danced with you to this final hour!" Ummm! isn't that good? Excellent! The final two lines of this fine poem caps it all: "Praise God for angels who walk with our life and, yes, those of flesh--the virtuous wife."

The writer of Proverbs asks, "Who can find a virtuous woman?" John C. Sparks of Xenia, Ohio, proudly says, "I have!" And so does your columnist, John Evans.

Thanks, John C. Sparks, for your excellent work!

With that, friends, I'll say God bless till next time, BUT WITH THE ADMONITION: "Husbands, love your wives...."! Wives, you appreciate your faithful husbands too, of course!

John Evans,
Jacksonville , Florida , USA
joevans@comcast.net