The Gift of You My Child.

Adopted

The Gift of You My Child.

I wasn’t there to hold you
At the moment you were born.
To lift you up, into my arms
When your life began it’s dawn.

-o-

I wasn’t there to kiss you
To shed tears of many joys
But I’m proud to be the father
of my baby girls and boys

-o-

I couldn’t wrap my arms around you
or teach you how to talk
To guide you in your infant steps
And help you learn to walk.

-o-

I wasn’t there on your first school day
To walk you there, with pride
But our love you know is God’s own gift.
And fills our hearts inside

-o-

So when you’re feeling lonely,
and your life, it makes you sad.
Just close your eyes and think about
The love from this, your dad.

-o-

I will never, ever leave you
Never try to make you cry
Never want to see you suffer
And here’s the reason why.

-o-

God’s love is oh so perfect
It is tender, true and mild.
And he made it oh so special,
In the gift of you my child.

-o-

Yes, God’s love is oh so perfect
It is tender, true and mild.
And he made it oh so special,
In the gift of you my child.

-oOo-

© Kevin A. Deane

Please click on the arrow below to listen to this poem.

In my life I have been so very blessed to be able to adopt a lot of children as my own and hopefully to demonstrate to them the love and nature of God as best I can.

I wrote this poem some years ago in order to demostrate how special and cherished each and every one of them are to me. It is an open poem and if you will an open letter to each of them.

O Father of The Fatherless

O Father of The Fatherless

O Father of the fatherless
in whom all families are blessed
I love the way You father me
You gave me life, forgave the past
now in Your arms I’m safe at last
I love the way You father me

Father me, for ever You’ll father me
and in Your embrace I’ll be forever secure
I love the way You father me
I love the way You father me

When bruised and broken I draw near
You hold me close and dry my tears
I love the way You father me
At last my fearful heart is still
surrendered to Your perfect will
I love the way You father me

If in my foolishness I stray
returning empty and ashamed
I love the way You father me
Exchanging for my wretchedness
Your radiant robes of righteousness
I love the way You father me

And when I look into Your eyes
from deep within my spirit cries
I love the way You father me
Before such love I stand amazed
and ever will through endless days
I love the way You father me

© 1992 Make Way Music

Here is another song that I sing to my children.

This particular recording is not that good but was recorded one Sunday morning when I sung it at church2

There Is No Life

There Is No Life

There is no life,
behind those eyes.
No smile upon that face.
Beneath which rock of pain doth lie,
the Beauty of your grace.

There is no flame
within your soul.
No warmth within your heart.
Beneath which ember may I find,
the spark your fire to start.

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

If you ever look in the eyes of a child so hurt, so damaged that he or she has withdrawn inside his or her self, it is a sight that I doubt you will ever forget. I know I never will.

For some 15 years I was blessed enough to be able to work with the homeless, single parent families and with folk suffering from mental illness.

In those 15 years I saw many a child of various ages about whom this poem could have be written. In truth this poem ends with a question. For me there is one eternal answer. The answer is Christ, but for me to know it is but one part of the equation. They too must know it. So we must ask ourselves, what is our responsibility in this?

The Difference

The Difference

Bang, Bang. Pop, pop.
You’re dead, I’m not.

Bang, Bang. Kill, Kill.
The difference is,
this time it’s real………………………..

© Kevin A. Deane

The difference part 2

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

When I was a VERY small boy we used to play war or cowboys and red indians. We all had toy guns. As we got older our play war scenarios became much more life-like and technical, but as little children we would simply run around shooting at each other and going “bang, bang, pop, pop, your dead and I’m not.”

This short poem and the two photographs that I have chosen the go before and after it remembers these childhood days BUT also that for many kids it is not a game.

Suffer Little Children

Suffer Little Children

Suffer little children to come unto me.
For your’s is the kingdom of heaven you see.
Through-out your dear lives you will suffer from sin.
So open your hearts I’ll enter within.

Suffer little children to come unto me.
I gave you my son, so that you might be free.
Salvation is yours, through the deeds he has done.
So follow his light and the day may be won.

One day in my garden, you’ll play and you’ll know,
that this is my gift, through the love that you show.
So Suffer little children to come unto me.
For yours is the kingdom of Heaven you see.

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

In the church I attended some years ago, the back room had a picture of Christ with the children, on it were the words – Suffer little Children to come unto me.

You know I struggled with that picture for many years thinking “Why should children have to suffer before coming to Christ.

It was some time later that I learned the words “Suffer little children to come unto me.” was one bible version’s interpretation of the words Christ spoke to his disciples when they tried to stop the children meeting him.

In other words. Let them come to me. I wrote this poem as a result of that message and the thoughts and questions I went through when at first I didn’t understand the picture. I also wrote it as an encouragement to all believers and to all children no matter of what age.

Seldom

Seldom

Seldom, did I hear the words, “I’m proud of you my child.”
Seldom, was my father’s touch, loving, soft or mild.

Seldom, could I find a trust, in truth to have and keep.
Seldom, could I ever show, the marks that cut so deep

Seldom, did a night go past, without the tears I shed?
Seldom, did the dark, not hide, this child beneath his bed?

And when I’ve grown, to who I am, the one I ought to be?
Will seldom be, the word most used, of the love that comes from me?
Or will scars heal, within my soul, not only on my skin?
I hope so Lord, for on that day, I know in love I’ll win!

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

I have heard so many tragic stories over the years that I have been blessed to work with folk who have been hurt in more ways than anyone should have been hurt.

Sadly too many I can personally relate to in one form or another.

This poem is a cry out to the Lord. And I know He is listening.

The Runaway Child

The Runaway Child

You’re a runaway child,
with a dream in your mind.
Where pain don’t belong
and all the people are kind.

But you come from a place,
where the opposite’s true.
Where they all seem to hate,
and the pain fathered you.

So you ran far away
in the dream in your mind.
Where the pain don’t belong
and all the people are kind.

But you ran out of time,
couldn’t keep up the pace.
Met the fear in your mind,
saw the pain on your face.

So you walked back a while,
till it started to fade.
Where the picture was good,
and that’s where you stayed.

‘Cause your a runaway child
within a dream in your mind.
Where the pain don’t belong
and all the people are kind.

But it just isn’t real,
it’s all seeming so false.
In it bitterness grows,
and the pain starts to waltz.

So you pack up your bags,
and all the sorrow you feel
And walk out in the night,
to try it for real.

Now you’re a runaway child,
in reality’s night.
For the dream in your mind,
You will just have to fight.

Where the pain don’t belong
and all the people are kind.
Will it ever be true,
or just a dream in your mind?

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

Over the years I have been blessed to work in the Social Care sector and part of this work was with homeless kids.

I guess because I too had lived on the streets my passion was obvious and I praise the Lord that I have seen both sides of this massive problem.

Mary Had A Little Lamb

Mary Had A Little Lamb

Mary had a little Lamb,
and the world got a Savior.

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

Again this was one of my children’s nursery rhymes thoughts.
Short and sweet but I think it makes the point.

According to my research the original nursery rhyme Mary Had a Little Lamb has no specific historical connection can be traced to the words of Mary had a little lamb but it can be confirmed that the song Mary had a little lamb is American as the words were written by Sarah Hale, of Boston, in 1830.

How’s that for some trivia.

Jeremy

Jeremy

When I look at you son
I see the beauty that’s within
through the colour of your eyes
not the colour of your skin

I see the loneliness that’s there
and the sadness running wild
I see a small boy feeling lost
as I think of you my child.

And the past that has been
and the things that were done
I can’t take from you child
I can’t take from you son

But I can hold you in my arms
and I can hold you in my heart
I can tell you through our love
that we will never part

So don’t think of the shades
of our skin or our race
just think of the love
that is written on my face.

And you’ll know here and now
that I’m loving you my boy
the differences are small
and the biggest thing is joy

And I tell you my child
of the love you have won
you have gained all my heart
and you truly are my son

And as we grow more in love
as we’re together through the years
I will love you though my joy
I will love you through my tears

And I tell you my child
of the love you have won
you have gained all my heart
and you truly are my son

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

Over the years I have been so blessed to have met and grown to love so many wonderful folk of all ages. Many have become family to me. Jeremy is one such person, young, sad, of mixed race and extremely mindful of this, he was rejected by his parents and was so very sad. I wrote this poem for him.

Homelessness Grace

Homelessness Grace

Bless this bunch,
As they munch their munch.
And at times when they must fast.

And we pray oh Lord
That this food they eat
Will never be their last.

Forgive us Lord,
Should we forget,
When considering streets we roam.

Your love for us,
Is always true.
In you we have a home.

Amen.

© Kevin A. Deane

To listen to this poem please click on the arrow below.

Those who know me will know that in my youth I spent some months living on the streets. Likewise later on I spent many years working for a Christian charity whose work included working with the homeless.

This poem was written as a grace to say at meal times. If you have ever eaten with hungry homeless teens you will know that the grace needs to be short and sweet for fear that the temptation to reach out for the food may grow to great

So I wrote this poem with this in mind.