the rain fell softly
while the choir sang of snowflakes
and the mournful music washed
over his lonely soul
Category Archives: Free Verse
Conversation
my dreams linger lightly on the wispy wimple
of the silver softness of my pillow
as i remember brightly the fine and fickle
flurry of the early evening hours
i will greet the morning, and the blushing brightness
of the subtle sunlight as it creeps across the floor
while i linger in the longing of the prior evening
thinking of the time i spent with her
Counterpoint
She is a song.
not the weaker,
but more fragile,
softer, sweeter
counterpoint:
to my melody
Anna Mae Thompson
she was strong
brooking no obstacle
as a woman and a daughter
a sister, a wife, and a mother
she loved her family
giving without sparing
wise, determined, deeply caring
by breath and unshaking faith
she was my grandmother
loving and deeply proud
leaving a legacy of grace
hope born of faith and love
Dusk
Softly the yellow dusk
Descended on the skyline
And golden light reflected
On the puddle after rain
Blood, Fire and Vapour
Blood, fire and vapour
Signs above and below
Wonders in heaven and earth
Darkness, and a blood moon
His Spirit poured out
His servants declaring
The great and notable day
His day, the day He comes
The day we are saved
If we call upon His name
– acts 2:18-21
I Am A Song
i am a song written in minor key
the rise and fall, the dance beside the deep
the melancholy surge, the tantalizing leap
the bright and bittersweet relation
a life of rhyme and reason
The Scent of Spring
the scent of spring was on the air this morning
breathing deep a sigh after the rain
white blossoms on the dogwood are breaking
and the indigo tinge of magnolias
signal the last breath of winter
For Love
My God, my God, He cried
As He suffered alone, dying
On a cross, a broken tree
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani
Forsaken, for love, for me
Rabboni
snow lies laden on the ground
salt ringing the trees
making patterns on wet roads
longing for life and evidence
seeking resurrection
three days like three months
an eternity of waiting
for a promise of hope
his voice and my name
–
adapted from I practice my spanish grammer
You
lilacs and daffodils,
on a grassy dell,
in the mid day sun.
on a day in spring,
when the weathers cool,
to sit and dwell,
on the nearness of you.
Spring
she teases me
soft breath, moist,
like a kiss on your cheek
and the wind blows,
so sweet in the morning
and she says she’s sorry
for taking so long
that she’ll be back soon
and i believe her
because i’m smitten
Who Are You Lord?
who are You Lord,
to pursue me with Your love?
who made the wind and the rain?
who made the mountains dance
and the very earth tremble.
who are You Lord,
to invest Yourself in me?
I who merit naught but judgment?
I who have spurned the sweetest gifts
of your deep and merciful heart.
Broken
Give me the broken, those in pain.
The wise, made wise by suffering.
Who can know compassion,
Who can know Love,
Who hasn’t hurt, felt anguish,
Known sorrow, and known loss?
Precious is the fellowship of suffering
Humble are those who are broken
And Sweet is the consolation of His Love.
Tonyia
my little girl,
i loved you so much.
i had such hopes,
sweet dreams of holding you,
playing with you,
watching you grow.
i felt you grow inside.
God had taken part of me,
and fashioned something precious,
something lovely,
exquisitely beautiful,
embodied of hope and love
but i lost you.
you were my little girl,
not to hold, never to see
unable to watch you stretch
your arms for the first time,
never to see you experience
this wide wide world.
you were taken too early,
a life, my life,
so short, so tenuous.
my stolen child,
my heart broke for loss.
when you were taken,
part of me was taken too.
–
This poem was written for my Aunt Barbara, who lost her first little girl (Tonyia) two days after she was born.
Indescribable
I desire to express an invocation
an elocution most profound
But my words escape me
The ephemeral nature of my heart
cannot grasp the discarnate theme
ethereal, mystical, divine
Cry out, Cry out, inarticulate tongue
insensate instrument of mans desiring
Let the heart give forth praise
indescribable
Creative
the feeling starts small
a persistent discontentment
visceral, driving
to somehow express something higher
more noble than common grey
or elevate the ordinary
to something transcendent
and rich with meaning
Unflinching
I have callously abused my Savior
I have used him, taken advantage
Without shame I have sullied His gift.
I grieve, but not overmuch,
I regret, but not egregiously,
And my shame remains
Too distant, too small
Too little, too late.
It all makes me feel
Unworthy, undeserved
Of His unflinching willingness
To love me even yet.
I Am Redeemed
Crucified
A part of me is dead
departed, flat separated,
And something new
Just beginning
An iron clad declaration
An act of inspiration
An act of love
Has set me free
I am crucified, revived,
Imbibed with a truth
I am made new
I am set free
I am redeemed
Why Stand Ye Desolate
Why stand ye desolate,
Forsaken, full of sorrow?
Why cry ye as the foundations are laid?
Yet now be strong, be strong
For I AM with you
I have promised
My Spirit yet remaineth
Heed My word, wait.
I will shake heaven
I will shake earth
Sea and dry land
I will fill this temple
Its glory, My glory
Will surpass what came before.