Browse Month

October 2017

Beauty So Striking My Speech Is Impaired -an original poem

Beauty so striking my speech is impaired
And I dare not speak an unexamined word.
For every word contains within it worlds of possibility,
Where in one I am alone
Or in another with you.
But nothing has mattered so little,
Than words never spoken to a woman
Never pursued.
Thus when the sun sets, the only
Possibility left is regret.

Just An Impatient Servant -an original poem

Dear Lord,
where’s my home
under country sky and watchful eye
of demonic evil host?
O Lord, where’s a home of my own?

My Christ,
where is my bride
unfaithful as I with greatly lusting eye
never resting at my side?
Bridegroom, where’s a bride of my own?

Our Father,
where is my son
disobedient as I, whining with “Why?”
who from Wisdom runs?
Abba Father, where’s a son of my own?

For Lord, a strong desire in my mire
gives thoughts to my heart, igniting a fire
which burns until I am tired
and thus I ask for good
which now would be for bad.

So Christ, give love from above
with the Spirit as a dove.
For though this season is tough
I might discern the good
from what may be to me for bad.

And Father, give strength that at length
myself all spent
following canon unbent
Your ordinances kept to teach me good
and wisdom to see such may be for bad.

For if I’ve no love now
I’ll have none then
when life I’ve spent unfaithful
and all statutes broken
turning all from faith and friends.

Just An Impatient Servant -an original poem

Too Kind But In My Life -an original poem

Kindness ends
And darkness blends with light
Day turns into night
With none to hear my plight
But some have come to change my sight

Kindness ends
But someone sent a word to calm my soul
To make me really whole
A Jesus to come to know
Some see us and need us to make them grow

Kindness ends
And I pretend to trust the ones who love me
I flinch when they touch me
But my back wants them to touch me
Anxiety attacks, tracks me down and it shoves me

Kindness ends
I see it end in time coming pretty soon
Perhaps today when it strikes noon
But then I come to see the truth
And none of those I thought would run did too

Too Kind But In My Life, an original poem.

A Meal for Two -an original poem

He’s made no plans, this aged fellow.
Upon the stove sits a meal made for two,
Though the last time he’s seen another
In his home was several months ago.
Hopeful could define him, but
Despair comes sure enough, once
He’s had his fill of food
And his hope soon flutters away on the
Wings of a deeply pained sigh.