My Own Book of Poetry, Volume 1
Page 3
wandering wild, but walking as a son.
Our Father holds us ever near
Our peace is His delight.
He knows our joy and our fear;
His faithful Love became our Light.
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Following The Wind On A Wing
Summer is nigh;
The bees follow the flowers
Gently caressing each petal for its pollen.
Summer breezes blow;
And butterflies fluttering on wing
Gently follow the wind.
Summer sweets flow
For the creatures of the season
Made for the flow of life.
Summer days glow
As life giving rays
Bless the creatures bountifully.
Summer nights sigh
As night creatures sing a lullabye
In comforting notes of rest,
As season follows season
Following the wind on a wing.
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Fountains Of Rome
A dove sat drinking at the fountain;
An awesome and exciting sight.
With camera raised and waiting,
The dove was caught in flight.
Water dripping from each basin,
In rhythm to each heart-beat,
Set the scene of serenity felt
Of Rome’s summer heat.
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Healing Wings
A fascinating expression
Of David the King
In his Psalms was quoted,
"In the shadow of God's wing".
But when David was afraid
It was then he asked to hide
Within the covert of God's wing;
In God's depths to abide.
Christ spread His wing to shadow
All those who would obey
Where His love and mercy
Could protect day by day.
In the shadow of His wing
We stand beneath His care
Under His close and watchful eye
To be protected there.
And by trust in His promises,
When in fear we seek to hide
Within the covert of His wing,
It is in His depths we abide.
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Pure Water
The rivers of the world ever flow
Down the drain,
Flushing the gutters as they go;
Yet it has no gain.
Oh, that even a single drop seen
To the air arise;
Or it be sweetened and clean,
‘Ere it compromise.
What flower in the sewer would bloom
With beauty and sweet smell?
In darkness without sun or room
Within its prison cell?
Draw your water from the well of the deep,
Where purest waters run.
Then pluck the flower from the dark so tenderly
And place it in the sun
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Dark Times Of The Thorns
Though thorns are sharp
And drops of blood are there,
Pick the bloom and smell the rose;
Observe its beauty rare.
Give praise to God and to His name;
Bow humbly as you mourn;
Look through rainbows of dew-dropped tears
In the dark times of the thorns.
Do you weep because of pain
And sorrow weighs you down?
Pick the rose and press it close,
And place it near the Crown.
Listen close as darkness falls
To that once echoed cry,
“Why do you forsake me, Father,
When I have to die?”
Is your journey through this world
A struggle day by day?
Pick the rose; its petals strew
Step by step along the way.
Bring into your memories’ path
Burdens that once were borne
By the full atoning love
Of one crowned with your thorn.
Though thorns are sharp,
And drops of blood are there,
Seek the bloom and grasp the rose;
Observe its beauty rare.
Give praise to God and to His name;
Bow humbly as you mourn.
Seek then, the rainbows through your tears
In the dark times of the thorns.
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Fishing Hopes
These boys that fishermen would be,
As they bait a hook upon bended knee.
And the final toss as line is dangled,
Followed by a shout "Our lines are tangled!"
Spots are crowded and the worms are spilled.
The things caught are not ones that are gilled.
They snag a limb, or fish get the bait.
With patience unknown before, they wait.
Heard over and over "Can't catch a thing!"
And maybe one will boast a sting.
Long hours are spent slapping pests in the heat.
Not a catch all day; they're tired and beat.
"Maybe next time", and they smile with hope,
As homeward bound they climb the slope.
And they chatter of perfect spots they sought
And how big were the ones they nearly caught!
New Hopes
Fishers of men these boys would be,
As they read "the Book" on bended knee.
The final toss as "truth" is dangled,
Following the shout "Our lives are tangled!"
Crowds come and worms are spilled.
Men are sought and hearts are filled.
Words fly away, or are crushed with hate.
With patience unknown before, they wait.
"Can't touch a heart!", heard again and again,
"They do not hear, or turn from sin!"
Long hours are spent fighting Satan in the heat.
So few responses, but never defeat!
But maybe soon, and they smile with hope,
As homeward bound they climb the slope.
And they chatter of the souls they sought
And weep over the ones that were nearly caught!
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Behold He Walks With Them
As I stand upon Golgotha,
Behold! the lonely cross!
I hear the screaming rent
That is the Temple's loss.
The murky sky is churning;
The thunder rolls about;
Then I feel the barren chill:
God's son .there is no doubt.
Before the tomb I stand.
Behold! the darkened grave!
I ponder upon the thought,
Who gives as He gave?
Alas, with bitter tears I weep.
Alas! the Lamb was slain!
How do I turn from the place
Wherein the dead was lain?
Amazed stand I; the tomb is op'ed.
Behold! the shining light!
That reaches out to me
Symbolic of His might,
Leaving only shadows
Across Golgotha's knoll
To lead me on through death
And regenerate my soul.
Contrite I stand before Him.
Behold! His Holy Word!
To which I hold, by which I live,
To teach as I have heard.
By every word must I be tried
Before my final rest.
In His name I should long
To give my very best.
On through timeless ages
Behold! the faithful stand!
Trusting in His Promises
They walked the desolate land.
Those, who, as through the grave
Triumphant passed with Him
In obedience to His will.
Behold! He walks with them
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Christmas Essence
The wonder of season's giddiness,
Alike to old and young,
Is the hypnosis of festiveness
In very essence wrung.
Mystic little workshop elves,
And dancing fairy queens,
And toys that gaily line the shelves
Fill all the solvent dreams.
Trees are in decoration dressed.
Bright fires are burning cozily.
Children are poking unrepressed
Through coveted presents nosily,
That had in greedy askance
In hopes they could not hide,
For Christmas morning's vigilance,
Each one desired espied.
How deep, how deep the love must go,
To search the lasting heart,
That looks beyond the tinsel glow
In somber faith to impart
The sound, as once, of Angels' song,
That filled the glowing sky,
Telling of that, these eons long,
Which brought these blessings nigh.
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Empty Words
Oh, empty words that so depress,
Yet, with your eyes lifted high,
And outstretched hands that express
Deep desire to draw nigh.
You say how much you love me,
And what for me you'd do.
Works so great I can not see.
Empty words ring untrue.
You leave me standing so alone,
My loved ones you beguile.
And when you feel that I am gone
You lose your empty smile.
Laws and love you strongly teach,
And yet you do not see
What you do, my brethren, to each,
So you do to me.
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Existential
Life, no more than death,
is just a place set within walls of eternity
With echoes of each generation crying their insistence.
The silence is beyond,
but the echoes ring in halls of each century
With each particle descrying answers of existence.
Eternally bound,
yet with deadly fear embracing each quaking soul,
They are walking slowly through the dark, shadowy vale
Destitute of spiritual cloak,
dried and burnished as an earthen bowl
The lonely, the silent ones, as though they dare not fail.
Where have they gone;
beyond the veil where now their footsteps fall?
Muffled cries of generations long swept beyond our ears
Is the silent blanket of beyond and spreads softly o'er their latent call.
And existence passes unanswered; unscathed by human tears.
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God Says
“If you would walk with me and stand where I stand,
Then you must do it, under the touch of my hand.”
If you are a faithful servant, the Master must be able to say,
”Come my good and faithful servant, for you did it my way.”
”Because I sent my Son to bless you, and to call you back to me,
He promised through your obedience that He would set you free.“
Then for the sake of righteousness, if you hunger and thirst,
You must walk by His pathway, and seek His kingdom first.
If you pass through toils and troubles, and win day by day,
You will seek His face in service; you will do it His way.”
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Feed The Lambs
Peter, if you love me,
My little lambs must you feed,
For unto you have I given
That which they need.
You must open up the door
Through which they must go
To the fields everlasting
That you must now sow.
Sow bountifully for the fullness
Of the time of harvest,
For the gathering of the bounty
Brings gratitude and rest.
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Joy Fullfilled
Oh vain man!
that cries out in the wilderness!
You think your world is so full
with knowledge and beauty that you see.
Yet lacking the touch of tenderness,
you cannot feel the pull of truth
and glory of what is to be.
Oh vain man!
in desperation of escape!
While, from thorns and burning pain,
the chains of bonds, self willed,
consumes your search of vain trial
and prevents your turning again
from agony of joy unfulfilled.
Oh sanctified man!
that in the fullness of your joy,
knowing that in your world to be
you are enclosed within His tender love
through cleansing waters, to employ
fulfilled vision of glory which you see
the shadow of things above.
Oh sanctified man!
that once was darkened without sight,
now freed as vessels from the sod
and placed for honor as God willed;
taking death from life and giving light,
a budding promise as on Aaron's rod,
the glory of man's joy fulfilled.
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Lament
What matter these that are here
And walk in the lust of their flesh?
Why follow those that go there
And crucify my Lord afresh?
Why beg these that do not hear
And with eyes wide do not see?
Why cry for those who would sear
Their conscience and evil be?
Deep inside
There is a yearn
I look aside
And as I turn...
Slowly along the bone of my cheek
A trailing as that of a snail
A slender line that is so weak
The sparkle of my silent wail.
O, reach for these that are here,
And walk in war with their flesh.
O, return those that go there
To live with my Lord afresh.
O, beg these and make them hear;
Open their eyes His wisdom to see.
O, weep with those for Godly fear
That they more Christ-like be.
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Limitations
I will fly with the wings of the birds
As high as the clouds, if I can,
But I am limited to only words
Upon the wings of a man.
I will sing the song of the nightingale
In the mellow of the night, if I can,
But I am limited to the lonely wail
Within the voice of a man.
I will run as swift as the deer
Across the meadow of life, if I can,
But I am limited to rear
Upon the two legs of a man.
I will conquer as a lion with might
And show my courage, if I can,
But I am limited to that right
In my relationship with man.
I will live my life as a seed,
Expound nature's wisdom, if I can,
But I am limited to human need
To live my life as a man.
I will bedeck myself with beauty,
As the owl gain deep wisdom, if I can,
But I am limited to human duty
And the understanding of a man.
I will be devoted
as a dove
And fly with peace, if I can,
But I am limited to human love
Within the heart of a man.
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Mountains To Climb
Mountains to climb! Oceans to swim!
I’m not in my prime, No vigor or vim!
The Lord is my shepherd,
I’ll climb that mountain, its heights to see,
And I shall not want, nor shall I faint.
I will drink at its fountain; whose strength will it be?
The Lord is my shepherd
Comfort is mine when I am weak!
And I shall not want, for my cup He has filled.
By His will divine, forgiveness I seek.
The Lord is my shepherd,
Footprints to follow; patterns to see;
By His Truth and Spirit will I stand;
Mountain top or hollow, whose Will will it be?
The Lord is my shepherd:
He seeks me when lost; My fears He doth quell.
In His love is my peace
In His fold I will dwell.
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My Best Friend
You are a friend to me.
You taught me how to sing,
And then supplied the harmony,
With hope that flies on Eagle's wing.
You are a harbor in my storms
When waves are lashing high;
You stay them with your arms
Until peace again is nigh.
God's love you shared with me,
And taught me how to win
Its glory, and its beauty see,
And how it dwells within.
So all that I can say,
All that I can be, you knew;
And with every passing day
You touched my life --and I grew.
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Nature's Way With Winter
Winter snows upon us fall, and around
Crystal trees fantasize our day.
Crisp sounds of our feet upon the ground
Tinkle in our ears with pleasant sound.
Time for joys of riding on a sled
And building snowmen in our play;
Angel’s wings upon a snowy bed
Against the holly’s green and red.
But once again the earth will sleep,
For that is nature’s way
For all the seasons then to keep
Balance in its awesome deep.
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