Photo by Lisa Fotios
This snow takes me back to Memphis.
A little girl with a crooked smile.
Oh how magical that Christmas was.
Boot prints of Santa on a snowy blue lawn.
So secure in the dreams of that gospel mile.
Daddy was my hero, such warm and simple times.
Of all the rooms my life has passed through,
Memphis was the sweetest time I ever knew.
Photo by Musa Ortaç
Shadow Boxer
glitters like gold!
Shapeshifter lies
have all been told!
His candy is poison
but sure taste sweet!
He shadow boxes
down on Deception Street!
Shadow Boxer betrays
with silver, he stole!
His beauty hides his
evil lust for control!
oh your fall from the heavens
like a burning star
shook the deep of this earth
what a falling was there!
Photo by Ashutosh Jaiswal
Truth has stumbled into darkened streets.
Honesty no longer matters in our media elite.
Truth is not to each his own.
Truth is Jesus Christ alone.
Photo by MESSALA CIULLA
I remember the good and leave the worst
I fill all my pages with rhyme and verse
Not much of it will matter to most
But some will understand the cost
I see a good day and leave the night
I paint a picture of the Hope in God’s light
May it never be said that I didn’t try
to speak the truth and expose the lie
This is the message we have heard from Christ and declare to you:God is light, pure light, and in Him there is no darkness AT ALL! 1 John 1:5
Photo by Tainá Bernard
You thought I never noticed you
in those hallowed halls of high school angst.
Like Breakfast Club we each played a part
and everyone said I would break your heart.
You thought I was a Golden lady with no scars.
You said my blue-gray eyes shined like silver stars.
Truthfully I thought no one really cared.
Only you could see that I was a little scared.
You were my best friend and always true.
I went to the parties and always looked for you.
You were too afraid to come my way
and then you faded black one day.
Years came and went till we met again.
We talked and laughed until the sun shined in.
We professed our love and gratitude out loud.
Friends to the end we made that vow.
Now I am old and you have crossed the pale.
I can see the halls of heaven prevail.
Nobody ever was or had a friend more true.
How wrong you were to think I never noticed you.
(this is dedicated to Tim C.)
Photo by Noelle Otto
I don’t know where you went when you left me.
I have to believe you were sure you had to leave.
People always seem to have to be, have to go, have to hear what someone else has said.
The Truth running away like a spool of thread.
Still, I remember it felt like drowning in a rip tide.
There is a sadness in the end, in the eyes of it all.
I am much the stronger for it but I don’t wait for your call.
Photo by Frans Van Heerden
The fabric we cling to so tightly that isn’t God, must break down
Our own coveted resources, our lifeboats all drowned
Though it may be beautiful fabric we have weaved
the failure of our remedies to control must be relieved
For that is when the Lord speaks…
Photo by Pixabay
I cannot keep trying to impress you
or manipulate what you think of me
it matters very little in the Truth of my identity.
To anticipate if you to like my verse
or if you’ll sing my tune or see my worth
all is Vanity and Vanity is a curse.
To know a person one must be true it is said
So do what you will and think what you think
It is only just words on paper with ink.
Photo by Andreas Wohlfahrt
Like a cloud scattered by a strong wind
All illusions of security have blown away
So now I must stand on the Faith I have professed
In The One that keeps me in his sight!
All illusions of control are laid bare
Idols crumble like sand castles in the air
Gratitude has pierced my soul
It leads me to The Cross of His might!
Palms up, letting go, cleaning the house of my soul
Rhetoric and cliches must be purged in the clutter
Returning to the purity of being His Child
I still Trust in Him, the Lover of my soul, who has already won this fight!
Photo by Pixabay
The Cheshire Cat’s moonshine smiles white.
The Hobbit’s Shire sends a woodsmoked sunrise.
The Midnight Cowgirl still rides wild and high.
Treasure Island’s grand Osprey weaves and glides.
The great Lion Aslan’s shadow still comforts me.
The Little Women sisters all still speak to me.
All these childhood stories are pages in my mind.
A little girl who loves books still lives inside.
Jill Autrey Dorman 