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The Poets Desk Authors

Sharing The Love Of Poetry

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Wondrous World

Never take for granted
The beauty all around;
The early morning sunrise,
The dew upon the ground.

Never cease to marvel
At the wonder of all things,
The dancing butterflies
And birds on soaring wings.

The miracles of nature
Surround us each new day;
The perfume of the flowers,
The smell of new mown hay.

Remember God, our Father,
The creator of all things.
Ponder on His mighty power
And enjoy the gifts He brings.

Copyright Marian Jones 2003
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A Better Choice

Life is not an ''easy stake''
as all of us should know It.
Life demands a choice to make,
'tis better not to ''blow it!''

For life can be a ''piece of cake''...
it's up to us to show it;
but just in case our hearts should break,
just trust in God... we owe it!

By William E. Hardison 
(copyright 2002 
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True Colors

Our lives have changed because of terrorism.
Some changes have been for the good, some for the bad.
Why does it always take a tragedy like this,
for ones to come together in unity and peace?
Some make changes for a day, a week, a month,
then they go back to their true colors,
of being, unkind, uncaring, unloving.
What is wrong with this picture,
are we part of the problem or the solution?
Letís look into our hearts and souls
root out the evil, itís not too late.
Do it while there is still time. 
Do it, now.

©eve hall 2001
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Homecoming Day

From the sounds that I hear, 
I know Christís coming is so near. 
For strong winds blow, 
And earthquakes shake the ground.†
I know the word of God is true. 
Heís coming back for me and you†
It will be rapture to be Heaven bound
In schools and churches,
Our children are dying. 
It seems that violence, 
Appears on every hand. 
As we offer comfort to those,†
Who are crying, 
Itís plain to see Lord,†
They donít understand. †
All around me my dear friends,†
Are leaving. 
One by one they have left,†
This world of woe. 
So my heart is broken, 
And my spirit is grieving. 
But I shall join them in Heaven I know!†
Oh, the signs of the time,†
Say Heís returning! 
And with a shout, 
Heíll come and take His bride away!†
Within my heart now, 
I can feel this message burning,†
"Donít loose hope child, 
You're too near Homecoming Day!††

Robert F. Dotson © 2003
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The Real Thing

How do we love Thee, Oh, Lord?
Let us count the ways.
We're loving you when we worship you,
praise you, and our service is for you.
We're loving you when we're honest, open, and real
We're loving you when we walk with you,
talk with you, and glean upon your every word.
We're loving you when we have compassion, 
show mercy, and forgive. 
We're loving you when we believe in you,
wait upon you, and take steps of faith.
We're loving you when we're meek,
 humble, and are not offended with another's weakness.
We're loving you when we seek you, 
obey you, and see things through your eyes.
We're loving you when we keep our heart,
 actions, and motives pure. 
We're loving you when we meet needs,
give you credit, and allow you first place 
We're loving you when we don't see stature,
 gender, religion, education, or color.
We love you in, oh, so many ways, Lord. But,
when we love you enough to feed your sheep,
IT'S THE REAL THING.

© by Joyce C. Lock

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Golden Trail

Madonna in the golden glow
fresh new lives await;
behind her lies the melting snow
of what could have been her fate.

She glances back, reflective;
of what past dreams once held,
but now it looks defective;
no pieces left to weld.

Yet still a softness lingers
in the forgiveness she must have;
as gentle tips of fingers
dress the wounds with healing salve.

She turns and looks ahead again
and knows that peace is near,
no longer lives the question ''When?''
The path to take is here.

The newness of the springtime
light her golden trail.
A robin and her baby chime;
the past is naught but frail.

Copyright © Pamela L. Serrilla
June 2003 (All Rights Reserved)
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Overcoming

They shade my world
These overhangs of unproductive gloom.
The sun through chinks of light
Attempts to reveal my room,
The room where I always come
When trouble shows its ugly head.
At times like this I sulk and brood
And wish that I were dead.
Even shadows cast their own shadows,
And beneath this equatorial screen
I sweat out all my remorse and fears
Of what might have been.
Yet through the gloom my spirit looms
As a knight with sword in hand
And wrestles to combat the gloom
And with his help to stand.
The chinks of light fall over me,
They cast out all my fears,
My knight has overcome the foe
And in my heart new hope appears.

Philip Carmen ©
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The River

Across the River of this life, O Lord,
Ply my lonely boat,
Bless these oars, they pull me on,
These keep my boat afloat,

The River is broad, strong and deep,
It will not drown me,
My boat it floats across this life,
To the bank where I am free.

The many rocks around, O Lord,
Shall surely wreck my boat,
With this armour of Truth, Love and Peace,
Will it ever reach the Shore?

This boat is the only means, O Lord,
TO help me reach the Shore,
This River raging, swirling around,
Can it ever drown my Soul?

©Akshay Rao
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http://www.akshayrao.com/

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This is a thumb nail of the full painting "Cherished Moments" © Paula Vaughan and used with her permission. If you would like to see more of Ms Vaughan's paintings, click on the icon above.

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