My Joseph My JAM, Poetry by Adrienne Miranda

Genre: Love, Hope, Justice.

My Joseph, My JAM- My Poem written to my beloved Joseph.
by Adrienne Miranda

A beautiful morn at 6:07, a precious angel came down from heaven; he quickly encountered the awe of the room; he stole my heart after embracing my womb.

My babe is beautiful, so perfect and sweet; he awaited his family for soon he would meet. That smile on his face so tender and mild; thank you, sweet Jesus, for my darling child.

I will call him Joseph after my dad, a spirited heart and a wonderful lad.

He would love all the earth in all of its glory and take hold of each life that entered his story.

From fish to turtle, to hamster to crab, he filled every nook and with gusto would grab.

My son he lightened the world with his smile, not knowing his time would be but a while.

He traveled here and there and hugged those he met, as I found out the time to go was not yet.

He was to wait till the day of summer, July; I was to learn of tears still to cry.

My Joseph left all and knew we would see how some would not answer and flee from our plea.

But this will not work when all’s said and done, ‘cause the witness is here, my holy one.

My son had a heart to all he did show; he came to the sky as a colorful rainbow.

Joseph took “up” with Jesus and many and at the same time, he gave me my penny.

The jewel is round and brilliant indeed; it lay on my breast to fulfill my aching need.

The tears do not stop; they seem 24-7, from a hot summer day in the month of seven.

My Joseph who came in the year eighty-seven smiles down on his mom and sends kisses from heaven.

He is always beside me to enlighten my way; he knows what’s inside and just what to say.

I love you, my son, with all of my heart; we travel as one and are never apart.

Be still and try calm my dear sweet mother; I’ll love you forever for there is no other.

I have been through the valley and am now with the lamb; keep faith, hope and love, your precious JAM.

“Nineteen years my gift,” he is now safely home.

    * * * * *

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