The end of my life the beginning of my death
I shall start to slowly inhale my final breath
Fast forwarding memories race through my mind
There is one in particular that I’m trying to find
Is it of the hottest night or the brightest day?
I really don’t know how could I possibly say
White capped waves to snow capped peaks
As I start to exhale I feel so tired and weak
Funny how everything has started moving so slow
As my mind races to learn what it shall never know
Suddenly everything ceases as clouds fill my eyes
For I have frozen in the memory of you and I
Nothing but darkness here at the end of the race
As my final breath of air softly kisses your face
As I travel through the darkness I feel no fear
I’m lost in the taste from the salt of your tear
They say eternity is no more than an equation of time
Consequences of our life heaven or hell shall define
There is one truthful fact regarding my fate
Our Lord Jesus Christ will meet me at the gate
But I won’t go in that’s something I could never do
There is no heaven for me until I walk in with you
I’ll sit down right there just outside of the gate
I’m certain for you the Lord will let me wait
I know you’ll be mad because I waited so long
Sweetheart you are the message inside of my song
And the message my song shall forever send
It could only be heaven if I have my friend
Twelve little girls and eight little boys
Each one the source of their parent’s joys,
Innocent children following rules,
Paper and pencils their magical tools.
Holidays coming, rehearsal of plays,
These were the most exciting of days.
Safe in their classroom as their teacher smiled
Noting the presence of each beloved child.
No inkling of trouble, no feeling of doom
Until a mad man invaded the room.
I so hope these children had no time for fear
And had no idea that death was so near.
Six brave teachers went to their deaths,
Protecting the children with very last breaths.
The big gates of heaven then opened wide
For six teachers ushering children inside.
Twenty small children are angels today,
And six faithful teachers in Heaven to stay.
Mothers and fathers and siblings and more
Are mourning their loved ones whom they adore.
The teachers who willingly gave up their lives
To protect their charges were daughters and wives.
Some had their own children whom they left behind.
No braver soldiers could one ever find.
A whole town is weeping for dear ones they lost.
How long must innocents bear the high cost
For folks who clamor for right to bear arms?
You’d think such mayhem would lessen guns' charms.
These things will keep happening, the danger unchanged,
Until we keep assault rifles from hands of deranged.
By: Joyce Johnson
SONG OF SONGS
Let me pluck ripened apples and strawberries for your delight
And put my hand under your head to soften the ground on which we lie tonight.
You are the white marguerites in my meadow flowing with deep grass,
The melodious tinkling of small bells shaped from shining glass.
Oh, the perfume of your soul is as a thousand roses at sway
In a walled garden on a wet and thunderous day.
Let me not stray from this place for it is the centre
Of the very heaven I hope to find; and when I enter
The dales of Paradise, let me first see
Your sweet face smiling - as it does now - at me.
For you are the heaven I have known
Before I approach God’s golden throne.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .
Entered in Sara Kendrick’s Contest "Song Of Solomon"
I wrote my words of love upon the moon last night
Tiny black words on an orb that shone full and bright
In my heart I felt you reading my love letter
The joy I felt could not have been any better
And as the moon absorbed the words I wrote to you
I suddenly realized you were watching too
So quickly the response came that it touched my soul
A sign that the Goddess of Love was on patrol
What I sent to you, you kindly sent back to me
It was as if the heavens had heard my sad plea
From now on wherever your heart tells you to go
I’ll write upon the moon and you will always know
The love we share will endure to the end of time
Messages from the moon will carry love in rhyme
*Written for Michael’s Boomerang Contest
(To The Memories of Jon Benet Ramsey, Sherrice Iverson and Ryan Harris)
Sometimes I reach down to hold your tiny hand
And I come up feeling powerless and helpless and
Unable to understand, why I will never see you
Playing in a schoolyard, backyard or
Playground because someone decided to take
What the world had found:
Three beautiful little girls,
With ponytails and bright faces
Whose pictures and stories have
Turned up in so many places
To tell stories of torture and abuse
To show the world that you refuse
To die down and disappear
Because if you do I fear
That no little girl will be able to play alone
Without the benefit of a bodyguard or chaperone
Increasingly, day after, day, I wake up
In the morning and I hear in the news that
Another little life has been taken by a crazed
I then immediately think of my precious
7-year-old and quickly react:
I say dear God, sometimes
I reach down to hold her tiny
Hand, and I still come up feeling
Powerless and helpless and unable to
Understand why I must never let go of
Of her hand... But God, I still thank
Heaven for little girls.
A staff is more than handhold, its worn
to the grasp, trust in what fell down from above.
The llama's sure foothold fits like our staffs
in the rocks climbing upward to the top to the sky.
We risk the blaze of sun, for the wide wings of condor
soaring, spiraling, hunting for a meal, never assured
except for his hold on the sky, flight, supreme
over the rocks and tumbles and worn out straw
of season of cold passing into days of warmth.
The spindle clatter, the roil and curve of weft needle
a prayer to on high, like the spirals of rock to the sky
the sun speaking to us at feet, these are complete
to the rest and remain of our escape to safety
in the cradle of our summer retreat, waiting for stars
to fall among us, waiting for stars to carry us away
from homes built within a circle of spires, three spires
to bring the ley lines of power into our grasp, to offer
escape from the dust and dung we live in, amazed.
God has a plan,
And it is out of my hands.
Halloween was coming and the angels thought they'd have some fun,
Since they sometimes thought of dressing up before the Holy One.
They all got together and decided to do just that,
Dress up in devilish costumes...Surprise the Lord like some earthly college frat.
Each one was to make his costume from the ethereal
A very inexpensive and unusual type of material.
Then, when the Lord was looking down at earth
Don the costumes for some Heavenly mirth.
It'll be a costume party for us here in our Heavenly abode
Different from always wearing these white sophisticated robes.
We'll have a good laugh and God will understand
We're just having a laugh here in His Heavenly plan.
The moment came, all the costumes had been made
And when the Lord looked up, Heaven was a different shade.
"Something is amiss, here." , He said in the shades of that red hue
Perhaps I'll bring Satan here, to find out if this is something new.
It would be difficult to invite that guest into heaven you see
As he had been banished for all the eons of centuries.
But nothing is impossible for the Lord for He can do any feat
And just when he was to summon Satan, the Angels all shouted
"Trick or Treat"!
Copyright © 2013
Politicians' greed seems to hover
Over our lives, a simmering cover
Separation of Church and State?
Satan planned mankind's fate
As in the days of Noah, sin did hover
Over their land like locusts do cover
The faithful do not fret what is hovering
By HIS Blood, the Lord is still covering
Our leaders refuse to make a deal
When enthralled by Satan's Will
Politics, and selfish greed
Failing our Nation's need
Obama-Care, a change that's fair
Or, struggling against Satan's lair?
But, ye faithful remember the heavens hover
Till horns blow clearing clouds that do cover.
edited: 6 Aug 2013 - 8:22pm
25 Sep 2013 - 8:13pm
The vernal pool of Heaven opens Lenore looks down upon LOVE lost
Lotus blossoms floating on air , swallowing the Sunlight and Die in the Frost
The softness of the Feathers of an ANGEL’S WING Touched by LENORE and I
True sadness Entwines Our Hearts Together, FOREVER as ONE in Each Others Eye
These are the Words of YOUR Earthly LOVER, Harry YOUR Husband, He LOVES YOU
Shh! Lenore Gestures with Her Finger to HER LIPS, My Beloves : “ Poetry; So True “
You are His Guardian ANGEL Asks LENORE : “ I am “ “ KASHINATH “ Forever LOVE”
Your wings Flutter so, “the Flowers Singing, Dew crying to the Hot Sun ABOVE"
Lenore “Take Words from My Heart, to My BELOVED : Serenade Him with Infinity
Flap Your Wings, ride the Wind of Heaven Go to him, and say I wait for His Eternity
Inspired by The Contest " Reflection " Sponsored By
" Constance La France " ~ A Rambling POET ~
By HGARVEY Daniel Esqure -- HG
Dedicated to Those Waiting For Us at The Pearly Gates