The Shadow of A Poet

backlit dark dawn environment

Photo by Pixabay 

 

I want to sleep deeply in a minor key

Need that old emerald sea washing over me

Sprinkles of “should have” drop into the sand

A seeker, a woman, just had to love that man

 

I put my mind on pause till the midnight moonrise

I smile a reverent smile when the church bells chime

Painted soft flames of love lick around my heart

The shadow of a poet she is only catching sparks

 

The Keen Edge of Joy

view of outer space

Photo by Zain Ali

The heat hung in the air like wet cotton today
The Texas dance of August has begun

The manicured lawns will soon be parched brown
Even the humming of the cicadas has gone still

Venus burns ever so brightly racing me to dawn
The majestic Oaks stand still as centurion guards

At my core the keen edge of Joy bids me come
And reach for the poetry that lives in my heart

Oh how all the Kings have fallen

war chess

Photo by Gladson Xavier

Oh how all the Kings have fallen

From their high and lofty thrones!

The white Knights are soiled with black death

none of them call upon Almighty God!

All the people lie constantly so the innocents die

Their evil makes a mockery of Almighty God!

 

Oh if only they would cry from deep hearts

and give up their ego and selfish ways!

I, Almighty God have made a way to redeem them

Only I have saved them with my own right hand!

I desire mercy and compassion above all else

I, Almighty God have spoken for all to hear!

Fiddler

wood music classic sound

Photo by Pixabay 

 

Part of me just won’t show  

what she needs or what she knows

The anger lies beneath the wind

the fury stirs it up again

 

What did I think would happen

what do I have to lose?

Turn my mourning into dancing

 I put on my high-heeled shoes

 

I can’t drown my sorrow

breathe through the smoky haze

I don’t want to work tomorrow 

but the Fiddler must be paid.

 

 

 

 

All the garbage and the pearls…

brown and green grass field during sunset

Photo by Jonathan Petersson

 

There is something Holy about the Sunrise

 I picture angels filling the heavens behind the Sun’s rays and even more angels among us on earth

All of them singing in worship to God each day

Like a daily Resurrection of His Glory evident to humans once again

I see the center of my own self

.All the garbage and the pearls

My heart opens up like a bleeding Rose cleansing me from within and once again The Holy brings peace out of chaos

I am reminded the well -designed small life I live is not by chance and this is a new day…

The days move like mercury

 

 

green car near seashore with blue ocean

Photo by Simon Matzinger

 

The days move like mercury

the horizon is melting in the heat

I can smell the burn of asphalt

the summertime songs playing on repeat…

 

The rhythm of life drumming through my skull

the heartbeat of longing comforts me

I can smell the scent of new life

rising up from the salty sea breeze…

 

Drifting on a sunny day

The days move like mercury

There is nowhere else I’d rather be

than dreaming in this life with you…

 

 

 

 

Summer Sun

selective focus photography of grass

Photo by Jens Mahnke 

 

The summer sun is baking the side walks and streets.
The Texas horizon looks like a melting mirage.
Summer solstice has arrived and a few things never change.
Even in the shade it is one hundred degrees.
My grandchildren have begun their love affair with the sprinkler and popsicles.
In the backyard with their parents.
And wonderful cool sheets for an afternoon nap.
And all is right with my world today and I am grateful.

You can look for me…

white peonies in clear glass vase centerpiece near a white ceramic mug closeup photography

Photo by Dominika Roseclay

 

You can look for me on the streets or home

my footprints are there but I may be gone

There is a scent of rose and a south wind breeze

a slight Texas drawl and a gospel hymn…

 

They say no one knows where they belong

without a doubt I know this is wrong

For every step taken must be redeemed

this journey’s path is  seldom what it seems…

 

You can look for me in this Texas town

where all my roots lay deeply in the ground

A sense of strength and a southern swag

and a Gulf Coast pull that calls me back…

 

You can look for me on the streets or home

Some familiar paths and some still unknown

You will hear my laugh dancing in the trees

 the cottonwood’s shade as the church bells ring…

 

 

Box of Secrets

black and white black and white depressed depression

Photo by Kat Jayne 

She took the cover off her box of secrets

No longer afraid someone might see them

Shreds of shame and names in pieces

No more to carry the cruel deceptions

And now Truth reigns with love God only shows

 

She knows they wonder what really keeps her

Guarded from those who want to meet her

The ones she loves they tossed like trinkets

Their distorted religion can no longer reach in

And take her soul from the love  God only knows

 

She has put her weapons down for good you see

Knowing nothing good ever hides in a shroud

Of course life giving Truth is what remains

Shame forever crucified into the ground

And her being is now  in the love God only bestows

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Pedestal

abstract angelic art blast

Photo by Sebastian Voortman

He said I was too good to be true

but of course there were obvious clues

 

He said your eyes are like pools of mystery

but of course he couldn’t see my history

 

The pedestal was so lovely for a season

but of course in time it crumbled all to pieces

 

He said the crumbled ruins were better 

of course no one can love a stone cold pedestal