The river gets deeper, not shallow, the further you move down the stream…

This is a small collection of what I call poetry but I am not sure that is the correct term. I do not claim to be a poet…you will see that some of these were written when the river was still shallow…

 

 

fear is a wilderness where the devil runs around

he tempted Jesus there now he wants to take me down.

fear is a wilderness where death creeps up on trust

the water is polluted and hope turns into dust.

fear is a wilderness where Jesus walked alone

oh but the King of Ages left the wilderness undone!

 

The Sixties

I was just a few years too young to get to Woodstock

           but oh how I adored all the songs…

As they pulled us along to the future

           we longed to be part of the stories going on…

There was white cross and reds as they slowly got stoned

         so what was once clear was all gone…

 

Now I have two daughters of my own

        and I still love all those Woodstock songs…

I have raised them up straight in prosperity 

        they have the same sapphire eyes as me

but oh how wise and shrewd they have to be to keep up

       with their world and their sanity!

9/2001

 

Crown of Tears

She wore a silver Sorrow like a crown upon her head.

Upon her shoulders, Burden, 

her feet were shod with Dread.

Then touched was she by Grace

and Mercy that crown replaced.

Now, she dons a golden Joy

made of tears from Jesus’ face.

 

smile

I was lovely then…

                     Blushing peachy cheeks…

I was funny then

                    Laughter honeysuckle sweet…

I lay down with you then

                  Beneath a full white moon…

I smile when I remember

                 the Symphony of my Youth…

 

(all poems by jill autrey dorman all rights reserved.)