The Poet's Desk Authors Sharing The Love Of Poetry
Page 85
A Voiceless Cry
Oh how weeping unvoiced breathes deep torments,
Beautiful love once flowered so,
Embellished with blooms, now subdued’s sweet scents,
Wretchedness brings forth a love’s woe.
It’s a voiceless cry that looms in a heart,
As the beauty of love is torn,
Call out the flowers withering apart,
Away to the winds each fly shorn.
Voiceless is beauty that will cry ever,
For a love cut off in essence,
Speaks a volume in sorrow that never,
Births a bloom to grace a presence.
How the voiceless cry now bellows for life,
Fallen tears scantily touch ground,
Scorched is the heart lacking love tied to strife,
Only to glean thorns that will sound.
Where is all the love and beauty that breathes,
Lifelessness usurps with a gloom,
All the sweetness topping in fragrance leaves,
Thus a voiceless cry has no bloom.
Highly deemed, love’s like a flower’s beauty,
Preciousness does flourish in God,
A voiceless cry in the night will ne’er be,
If love’s sanctioned by Him then awed.
Senior moments come
and senior moments go.
After the rain it may be dark
or we see a pretty rainbow.
Some senior moments stay
and others I wish would go.
To all my friends around me
each day more of them I show.
I’ll take the senior moments.
I pray they are here to stay.
Because when I forget things
I know I'm older by another day.
This little bit of truth
may be valuable as gold.
The alternative to senior moments
is that today we don’t get another day old.
Today,
I will rise and see how the day goes,
See if it rains or the wind blows.
I will try to rekindle my dreams.
The shadow may not be as dark as it seems.
Whatever the weather, I will not complain,
Because there is really nothing to gain.
I eat my vegetables and my fruit, and drink my milk,
But I do not wear wool, satin or silk.
I may get busy and do some work,
Of only do dishes or iron a shirt.
I may go out and help someone,
It will make me feel better in the long run.
I am thankful that today I am healthy,
I do not need to be famous or wealthy.
I'm thankful that I have a roof over my head,
And a good bed to sleep in at night.
On Sunday morning I can hear the choir singing.
It means a lot to me.
We should be happy as long as we can see,
We may not have much time to waste,
Lots of things cannot be replaced.
You ask why I follow this Jesus?
Why I love Him the way I do?
When the world's turned away from His teachings
And the people who serve Him are few.
It's not the rewards I'm after,
Or gifts that I hope to receive.
It's the Presence that calls for commitment
It's the Spirit I trust and believe.
The Lord doesn't shelter His faithful,
Or spare them all suffering and pain,
Like everyone else I have burdens,
And walk through my share of rain.
Yet He gives me a plan and a purpose,
And that joy only Christians have known,
I never know what comes tomorrow,
But I do know I'm never alone.
It's the love always there when you need it.
It's the words that redeem and inspire,
It's the longing to ever be with Him,
That burns in my heart like a fire.