Larry E. Whittington; Writer, Author

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Thankful Birds or Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirping

This morning before the sun came up,
It wasn't even day light
I woke to birds chirping.
Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirping
Thanking God for food
Soon to be supplied.


As I lay there dozing in prayer
I also thanked God for my supply
Doze, Doze, Doze, Dozing.
Thanking God for food
Soon to be supplied.


The birds knew who to thank
They started early chirping
Before break of day.
Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirping
Their thanks to God,
Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirping


This morning as the sun soon rose
So I did after the break of day.
At the window there I stood
I saw them flitting and hopping
Those chirping birds searching for their supply.
Fliting and hopping, those thankful birds.


As I sat down to my table spread
I knew who to thank.
I had started early
Before the break of day
Thanking, Thanking, Thanking
Giving my thanks to God.


This was the day the Lord had made
Given to rejoice and be glad in.
This was the day given for work or play
Provided for rejoicing and thanking.


As I sat out in the cool of the evening
Again to my ears it came. Chirping.
Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirping.
Before they nested down, birds
Satisfied at the end of the day
Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirping
Their thanks to God.
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirping.


Soon after as nighttime fell
As I retired to my bed provided
It came to my mind again.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,
Thank you, God for the birds
Who remind me to thank You.
Thank You, Thank You, Thank You.


Larry E. Whittington


Originally written 6/19/2016

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The Little Brown Spider

Little brown spider, I bumped into you today
I am so sorry. I didn't see you being so small.
Your web I wiggled. Did I you scare.
I hope I didn't your web break.
I want your web strong so your next meal you catch.
But it's so fine only a gnat or two could it catch.
But you being so small a gnat or two would do.
A gnat or two even enough for a day or two.


Little brown spider, I have a question for you.
Why did you build your web inside my shed?
The door is closed and no gnats it contains.
Are you so small because no food you have?
Could you outside your web have built
There where abound the gnats?
Outside? Yes, there outside where abound the gnats.
The breeze strong may be so must your web be.
Outside where the gnats abound.


Larry E. Whittington 3/11/2018

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A Poem in the making The following was a hand written note from a yellowing, unlined paper. It was written in ink, with some corrections as it goes along, some are for spelling while others are for the use of different words or phrases. It seems to have been intended that each verse be 10 lines long. No title, no date. No name except it is my handwriting. (Larry E. Whittington)
On the back side of this same paper was another writing in groups of 10 lines. It is not complete so I will try to fill it in.


A New Feeling

How long it is from the time of their falling
For the leaves to grow again?
That's how long we have been waiting
For the change that has finally come.
Besides the green waiving overhead again
We have a green carpet under our feet.
It isn't like it was at the dying
All brown, dry and dead then.
It doesn't make the old, crispy sound
This new soft cool carpet green.


How long it was from the time of dying
For the carpet green to be ours again!
But now we note something -something
New in the air - It smells like nothing else.
It comes only from the new growing ones
That come from their hiding place.
The many things from here and there
(They come on ground or tree high)
And all have the colors I know
And all the good smells to share.


How long it was from the time of fading
For the rainbow colors to dot the earth
But hark, hark now for what is this
This, I hear coming to my ear?
Is it that glad song of that old bird
The one that's been gone for so long.
But now it is here, it is hear.
Telling everyone it is hear.
He goes hoping along with that cheery song
And is glad as he makes hearts cheerful again.


How long it was from the time of flying
For the old bird to come back
And now we can say it
Because everyone knows it
That it is spring time again
And I might be in love.

I inserted the word "I" in place of the word "we"
in the last line even though "we"
was in the original.
This may have been written about
the time I met Carol my wife.

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Oh, What Is Love?

Oh, what is love?
I've often wanted to know
So that I would know
When I was in love.

Oh! What is love?
So I will know
When I should say
It is you, I love.

Oh! What is love?
So that I will know
What this feeling is.
Is it, that it is you I love?

I do not know
Just what love is
But somehow I know
It will be mine someday.

Some day as I go
About my way,
Something will let me know.
I have nothing to fear.

Oh! What is love?
Often I've wanted to know
So I can tell
If it was I you do love.

Oh! What is love?
So I will know
What you will say
If it is I, you love.

Oh! What is love?
And how will I know
What will you say
When it is I, you love?

Oh! What is love?
So that I will know
Just what your feelings are.
Is it that it is I, you love?

I do not know
Just what love is
But someday I'll know
And be able to tell.

I'll be able to go
My who life through
With someone I'll show
My love is true.
(This writing continues in somewhat
different structure with the following
that was on the back side
of the sheet of paper.
It did not have a separate title.)

I seem not to wish
(I know not why)
It was you I did love.
It would be nice.

I have talked with some
(I know not why.)
And have thought of love.
It would be nice.

I have wondered at times
(I know not why)
Just when I would find mine.
It would be nice.

I started talking to you
(I know not why.)
It was the other day or so.
It would be nice.

First I did not think
(I know not why.)
You were one I could love.
It would be nice.

But now, - I know not why -
I seem to wish
It was you I would love.
It would be nice.

This was copied from a yellow, unlined paper.
On the front written in ink were these words.
During the 3rd week in the month of May 1961.

I believe it was June 30, 1961 Carol and I were Married.
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Please Tell Us Why.

Why do we leave the ones so dear?
Why do we say we must go?
Its call strong and clear.
The loved Ones call us to stay,
But that call we can't obey.

Why is it we must go?
But where, we do not know.
We can't say why we must.
We ourselves don't understand
And those near us can't say
Why we must that call obey.

Why? When the time draws near
Do we fear the coming day
When it is our time to depart.
Do we think we have been wrong
To obey that call so strong?

Why, when the time is here,
Do we say good bye to those so dear?
We fear to say to those we love
That we do love them so.
We fear we are in the wrong.
But wait, our time is here. .

Why we left, we don't know.
Where we are going is not ours to say.
We travel here and we travel there.
We work a little for what we need.
But don't plan for the coming day
Only living to hear of ones we knew so dear.

Why do we see that life we lived
So very clear in our dreams
And cannot see for the tears in our eyes
The new life we should live.
A new life we cannot live
But still can't return to those so dear.
Signed Larry E. Whittington

Written in ink on lined paper.
(Undated but probably Peru college day.
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My Jewel

Oh, to be half of a Solomon
And know half of what he knew,
But I know I'm not and know I can't
I will just have to rely on him.

A worthy woman who can find,
(I know I have found mine.)
For her price is far above rubies.
(That is why mine loves red, and other bright colors too.)

The heart of her husband trusts in her.
(Even as I can trust in hers.
She comes and goes, in and out
But I know she is ever mine.)

She doeth him good and not evil
(Is there anything better than that?)
All the days of her life.
(What a grand future to look forward to.)

She works willingly with her hands.
(I can see this all around
With house and home and everything
Well kept, organized, and neat.)

She rises also while it is yet night
(Yes, this is her all right.)
And gives food to her household.
(Yes, there is my bowl of raisin bran.)

She knoweth that her merchandise is profitable.
(She knows what she has is valuable
Her teaching and administrative skills,
So it is this that she markets.)

She reaches forth her hands to the needy.
(She gives herself in many ways
To help those children in need but
It also seems there is an army to feed.)

Her clothing is fine linen and purple.
(What else should she ever wear?)
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
(She doesn't worry but laughs at days to come.)

She speaks with wisdom, faithful instruction.
(Stop! Listen! Do you hear the wisdom there?)
She watches over the affairs of her household.
(Even those who have left the nest.)

Her children arise and call her blessed;
Her husband also, and he praises her.
Many women do noble things,
But you surpass them all.

This take on Proverbs 31 was started several years ago.
The last four stanzas were lost
but these were rewritten 3/31/2014
Larry E. Whittington
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MY PRAYER

Lord, I came to you just a moment ago
I told you something I Wanted to do.
I told you that if I was able to
It would be because of You.

I just wanted to write something down
There was something I needed to say
And I knew if it was to come out
It would be because of You.

What I had wanted to say
Words written in a special way.
To the one special to me, now and always
It would be because of You.

If these words, though in my thought,
And heart, come not out as they ought
The words, I LOVE YOU,
It wouldn't be because of You.

Day by day, my love
Through thick and thin, my "Hon"
It is to you I should give of myself
It would be because of you.

(Lord, this is what you would want of me
Just as you gave yourself for me.)
So Hon, my Love, I give you myself
It would be because of Him.

Larry E. Whittington
Tuesday, February 06, 2001
8:35 PM
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On Days Like These


It's on days like these that I would like to do
Something.
It's on days like these I would like to say
Something.
It's on days like these I would like to be
Something
That would bring that sparkle back to your eyes


For i's on days like this
That I miss
Your smile, your joy, your glow.
It's on days like this that I know
There is something that is amiss.
It's on days like this that I know
Your sparkle I will miss.


So I know that I want to do
Something.
I know I want to say
Something.
I know I want to be
Something to you
That will put that sparkle back into your eyes.


When you feel down,
I feel it too.
When you can't smile,
How can I.
When your glow is dim
And your joy far away, I want to help find it
And bring it back ON DAYS LIKE THIS.


6/2/0l l0:l9:47 AM
Larry E. Whittington

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What Makes Me Tick?

WHAT MAKES ME TICK?
Oh! You are wondering that too?
Well then, just what makes me tick would be good to know.
Now that I am thinking about it, just what is it that makes me tick?


Well, I don't really think I know
Just what makes me tick.
There are things that I do, there are things I say
But now that I think about it, I'm not sure just what makes me tick.


If I were to ask myself; at least on the outside,
Just what makes me tick?
I would say that I try to say and do things that would be kind.
But what is on the inside, just what is it that really makes me tick?


To God's word I have turned,
I have tried to take a good look.
I have told myself I want to follow His way.
But even with that desire, what's inside? What really makes me tick?


Many years ago, at least it seems now,
I wanted a black and white list
Which would direct my every turn
But even with that desire at least on the outside, what really makes me tick?


During those years, at least it seems now,
I wanted the list so I could still pick and choose
That which would direct my every turn.
But even with this thought, do I really know what makes me tick?


I can see through dim shadowy memories
Years where it was just hard,
To give myself, to yield myself; wholly and completely to God.
But with this realization, can I even now really know what makes me tick?


I say to myself and I say to God
I want to follow your way.
I feel myself more yielding but am I wholly, completely given to God?
But with this desire will l, can I, really know what makes me tick?


Any good that I do is God's doing.
All the bad is my own choosing.
Shall l repeat? All the bad is my own choosing.
But with this statement, does it help me know what makes me tick?


I think we are closer to knowing,
Just what it is that makes me tick.
(But I am not sure I like what it is pointing to.)
Does it seem to say not following God's way enters into the picture of just what makes me tick?


l really want to change and I think I am.
For just recently I thanked God for your guiding words.
What you said was needful even though I at first I didn't want to listen.
Sometimes I don't know what makes me tick.


I accepted your words and gave God thanks,
He knew l needed a helpmate like you.
I accepted your correction and felt glad I did.
But sometimes I still don't know what makes me tick.


I see it more now that I am not perfect
(though I have acted as if I were)
I want to accept God growing me so that sometime
I will know just what it is that makes me tick.


Larry E. Whittington
I0/18/01 11:15 PM

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Dark, Black Is The Night

Dark, - black is the night
It Moved Slightly
It moved steadily
But what? But where?

Dark as the night is
It was searching
Moving, Coming,
It came. It came.

Night is black.
But its target
My back. My back.
I felt it. I felt it.

Black as night
It moved, purposely,
Up my back, onto my side.
I felt it. I felt it.

Dark is the night
But I felt it.
Soft, tender, and still
Soft, tender and still.

Dark - black is the night
It knew. It knew.
Where it would be
Soft, tender and still.

Dark as night yet bright as day
It moved, it came
It stayed
Soft, tender and still.

YOUR HAND
(My Wife's Hand)
Started 9/2/2016 but thought of on several nights.
Larry E. Whittington
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I Would Like to Write


I would like to write
Just a little each day
To keep track of my thoughts
As I go on my way.

I would like to write
Just to make sure I know
That what I am thinking
Is alright to show

I would like to write
Just to keep track
Of the things I may do
And just how I act.

I would like to write
And then when I would read
I could see for myself
What improvements I need

May 15, 1961 signed by L.E.W.

Copied from yellow, unlined booklet on June 7, 2017

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What Shall I Write

What shall I write that others may know,
Just what the feelings are and I have and show.
What shall I write - or should I write at all?
Do others even care to know anything at all?

What shall I write if others don't even care
Just what my feelings are when they are laid bare?
Who should I write to - or should I write at all-
If none would read even a little - let along all.

Why does anyone write anything of themselves
If they know no one will even take it from the shelves.
This might be a question someone might answer
But who would know it even if it on paper were.

I sometimes think that maybe just to my self.
I write to know what feelings I have of my self.
I write, that I may know and then be sure
That in all things my feelings may be pure.

May 15,1961 by L.E.W.
This was copied from handwritten material in an old yellowing unlined booklet.
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Poetry

The other day I said I was going to read some poetry
But what if I had said I was going to write some
Is one as easy as the other?
I think not.
Reading poetry requires knowledge
Writing poetry requires a gift.
Knowledge can be learned
While a gift is given.

3/26/2016 Copied to computer.
Larry E. Whittington









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