Archives: Poems

Homemade Death

Homemade potions, healings make; these can bring forth some good.
And homemade objects can be fun. We use them, yes we should.

A homemade bomb that blasts through this, our nation and our hearts,
Could not conceive what lay ahead: debris of lives, in parts.

Invasion on a massive scale, descends into the crib.
The toys and songs that hurled the air, silenced by hatred’s bib.

It spilled over to children, where their safety now they’ve lost.
The elements that caused this bomb; too great – a nation’s cost.

We fail to comprehend how this dread force speaks with such dare.
Two wrongs do not create a right. These wounds are hard to bare.

To kill the children, aged; soldiers, who this land protect.
And then to slaughter workers too, is more than hate expects.

The calling card of Waco is distrust, but here is ours:
The calling forth of prayer to heal the deep-set, ragged scars.

In prayerful pause, please be aware that God knows this time spent.
At 9 A.M. He met a cross; He for our pain was sent.

This homemade potion left a hole; a homemade grave was dug.
Before you leave your house today, be sure to get a hug.

Julie’s Song

To the tune “One Day at a Time”

I’m in a quarry, I’m a secretary.
Help me believe in what I could be
And all that I am.
Throw away the filing, I have to climb.
Oh for my sake, teach me to take
One task at a time.

One task at a time, dear lawyers,
That’s all I’m asking from you.
Give me some work, but not too much work
For me to do.
Cause yesterday’s gone, sweet lawyers,
And tomorrow may never be mine.
So please think of me and my sanity,
When you give me work next time.

Do you remember, when I first started here?
Well, lawyers, you know, if you’re looking
So low, that it’s as crazy as then.
Filing and typing, blowing my mind.
Please for my sake, give me today,
One task at a time.

The Other Side of Caring

One of our first conversations,
was when I came to Unity.
There you were – behind the counter,
a ray of hope for those in need.

Now you find yourself in weakness,
which could have drained your spirit dry.
But I know the Spirit’s fullness,
goes beyond our sense to try.

On the other side of caring,
please behold your status there.
Our beloved Susan’s treasured,
and knows God’s family truly cares.

Nine Lives Had She

Nine lives had she, in phrase of tense.
The pendulum immense.
From fast-paced times,
To painful lines.
One never on the fence.

You knew just where you stood with her,
And flew, sometimes the fur.
But to get close,
You’d get the most.
Ev’n when things got stirred.

Nine lives had she, just like the ones –
Those furry cats she loved.
For such a while,
With her own style,
She blessed us with her fun.

The life she lived, some will concur,
Was difficult, for sure.
But the Great Being,
Though sight unseen,
Took such good care of her.

One gift to her was laughter’s mood;
She used it as only she could.
We laughed till we cried,
And the tears flowed out wide.
This humor – her medicinal food.

A new life in Christ, freedom had she,
Surprised to learn that He –
The One who died,
And to her never lied,
Would always her rescuer be.

How she yearned for that touch,
Of He who loved her so much.
And that touch came so fast, in due course.
She’s now free from all pain,
And quite healthy again.
As the water flows back to its source.

Nine lives had Marie in such a few years,
Her times brought both joy and fears.
I feel so blessed,
That she is now dressed,
In God’s white robe, with no more tears.

A New Year’s Prayer

With a New Year on our calendar, our great God dwells not in time.
His work in us comes from His throne, through His blessed will divine.

Since every day is new to God – His mercies are daily shown,
we need not look to dates themselves, but to the eternal “I Am” alone.

There is no timeline we can access, for the Lord exceeds in all.
He expects that we will look to Him and at Jesus’ feet we’ll fall.

So whenever you are tempted to detail God’s varied plan this way,
just recall that God may work through time, but it’s not our hope and stay.

My Twin

In marriage, two become one. When you are a twin, one becomes
two. This poem is about that process, and the gratefulness
I have that I share this journey with someone very special.

God did not bring me to this earth, in birth to be alone.
He sent a twin to come with me, someone to call my own.

Born together years ago, I lingered in the womb.
She kids me I was born the last, so I’d have my own room.

Who’d know that one becoming “Two” would take so very long,
And yet this journey we call life, our “Oneness” stays so strong.

As we’ve discovered our own selves; our feelings and our view,
We’ve been set free, embraced the goal – our friendship to renew.

I used to think that to be me, I had to come apart.
But what I’ve found through finding me, she’s glued right to my heart.

No problem now to let her be exactly who she is,
We don’t compete, we just complete the blessing of the twin.

So different we, and yet the same. We share a past, and so, our name.
I ask God’s best for her to send. I got the best. I got a friend.

At birth, a marvel we to all. Held in the hand, we were so small.
Now both live safely in God’s hand. The wonder’s His, the feeling’s grand.

No matter what comes up down here; what ends or what begins.
How can I lose if in my “Twin” are these small words – “To win”.

Like a Summer’s Sun

Like a summer’s sun in a day that turned night,
Is a tender love that once held you tight.
And the day came to an end and you’re feeling alone.

With the breezes blown and the wind feeling fine
Is the one you knew, who was one-of-a-kind,
And your mind becomes so still, cause you’re missing what’s gone.

When, oh when is my one coming back, for I’ve wandered alone
Just knowing this fact.
That the day is long past gone and her light feels so black.

I’ve lived two-thirds of my life without feeling her touch.
To have it right now would mean oh so much.
But the gap is much too strong, and I can’t go along.

When, oh when will I come to the chart, that her life is not
Done, for she gave me my start.
And a mother’s touch lives on in her child’s life below.
And the day comes to an end and I’m taking it slow.

With the rushing sea and the ripple from the storm
Makes me think how certain I was formed.
For the seas calm down to say – remember her, can’t you see?
And my day has just begun. No one can take her from me.

The Cains are Able

The ebola virus changed life’s terrain, which buried hope amid a mountain of pain.

This channel of death – it’s toll has taken, and with the touch of death Sierra Leone is shaken.

Dropped into this cavity of sorrow and loss, God sent the Cains with heart and His cross.

The cross defeats death right in its wake and provides great assistance for Jesus’ sake.

With heart and hand they serve the lost, without any thought of its great cost.

Carrie’s going “home” to bring hope to their pain. God is bringing life again through Carrie Jo and Geoffrey Cain.

Bring Jerusalem Home

Our Savior’s final statement, as He left this world in
flight,

Was to draw a map of witness for those lost within the
night.

Jesus knew the city of the kings, named for the place of peace,
and set the Grand Commission for man’s personal soul release.

He mentioned first Jerusalem — reach those whose lives are near.
Then Judea and the uttermost, in pursuit of truth that’s clear.

We tend to proceed far in life, so concerned for those still lost,
yet we don’t check the rear-view mirror of God’s love at such a cost.

No matter where you find yourself, as a witness read this poem:
don’t forget your friends and family when you bring Jerusalem home.

A Soul in a Box

If you’ve ever wonder why shoe boxes bring
the world such needed joy,
consider they are prepared with love for precious girls and boys.

It’s not a mere chance these boxes are used to bring the blessings there,
for we see it in Ephesians 6 as how we are to share.

We’re told to have our feet shod with the gospel of His peace.
This keeps us on the path of life, bringing salvation’s sure release.

So graciously, God clothed these gifts where shoes before were laid,
to get us up on our own feet, for the price our Lord had paid.

If you’re still perplexed why these were used, here’s a play on words in whole;
just like every shoe that was in a box, so each child has a soul.