Cows in Summer

A pretty bovine hanging out in a green pasture

                        The wide eyed brown and white cows,
                        With their heads bowed down,
                        Drink from the little irrigation ditch.

                        Switch their tails skillfully
                        To dislodge biting black flies.

                        Extrude long strings of slobber,
                        Which look like fishing line.

                        The wisps are wafted away
                        As the summer breeze
                        Catches hold of them.

                        It hangs the silver strands on
                        Tall browning Indian tobacco weed,
                        At the edge of the water.

                        Creating a sparkling summer Christmas tree.

                                                                             Cerita M. Hewett                                                                                         July 2002 (revised 2014)

He Lives

                                             I do not know why

                                                      Christmas came

                                                               So fast.

                                             In other days

                                                      It always came

                                                               ‘At last!’

                                             And yet its sounds

                                                      And smells,

                                                               And light,

                                             Are welcome to this

                                                      Mortal’s ears

                                                               And sight.

                                             Because that Holy Baby’s

                                                      Birth and


                                             Awakens once again my heart,

                                                      And pries it

                                                               Open wide,

                                             Until I smile,

                                                      And laugh,

                                                               And give

                                             My heart again to Him,

                                                      Who lived and died,

                                                               And yet still lives.

                                                                                                            Cerita M. Hewett

                                                                                                            December 2, 2013


Reminder to the World

                             Cold in the mountains of Idaho or

                             Hot in South America, still we are

                             Reminded of the tiny

                             Infant son born in a humble


                             To a loving

                             Mother on that holy night when all the

                             Angels of heaven

                             Sang with hope and joy!

Peace on earth, good will to men!

Cerita M. Hewett

December 1, 2001


The Greatest Gift

                                       I’m glad that Jesus Christ was born,

                                       In a stable long ago,

                                       And that He lived a life of love,

                                       Showing us the way of Joy.


                                       In dark Gethsemane, I know

                                       Christ paid the price of sin,

                                       And then He suffered on the cross,

                                       That we might live like Him.


                                       Thus on that bright first Easter morn,

                                      He rose triumphantly,

                                      To carry all who live on Earth,

                                       Into Eternity.


                                        I’m grateful for Christ’s humble birth,

                                       His life of kindness so supreme,

                                       His willing, caring sacrifice,

                                       That brings us home to God again.


                                      May we now living in the World,

                                      Make room within our humble hearts,

                                      To welcome daily from above,

                                      His healing, atoning, Gift of Love.

                                                                                                    Cerita M. Hewett

                                                                                                    December 2012


                                    The long journey to Bethlehem,

                                    No room at the inn,

                                    A stable filled with love,

                                    Brown donkey watching silently,

                                    Doves softly cooing,

                                    One tiny infant’s birth cry.


                                    Angel songs in the night,

                                    Mary the mother filled with joy,

                                    Joseph the guardian standing amazed,

                                    Shepherds kneeling to worship,

                                    Three kings making a long pilgrimage,

                                    All mankind awaiting,


                                                                                                            Cerita M. Hewett


Mailing Packages

                                         The neighbor’s lights are up,

                                         They are in the Christmas spirit!

                                          I can see their tree through the window,

                                          It shines out to encourage me.


                                           Our children are out of the dolls and play truck ages,

                                           They have marched past the name brand clothing stage,

                                            I will need to mail their packages,


                                           What will delight their hearts today?

                                            It’s hard to know.

                                            I want to please them,

                                            But really can’t be sure

                                            How to get that adult face

                                            To shine once again.


                                            Perhaps it is not possible now,

                                           Now that they know so much of the world,

                                           But I will try.

                                                                                                                        Cerita M. Hewett

                                                                                                                        2002  (revised 2014)