"THERE HE WAS HOLDING HIS HAND OUT"
God, can I hold your hand and follow you?
My child, it is I who will walk with you! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across earth. Your love and devotion are what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You ran to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles and tribulations. We could not speak, it was my light that kept you from going weak.
God, are you a dream of beauty? The holy book.
My preacher spoke of the afterlife, calling it paradise.
I remember now, I felt this company once before, this light.
Many times, I forsake the light and still you never left my door.
I felt it on the day I was born,
the day I became baptized in your holy name.
I felt this light before, can you explain it once more?
Lord pleases clarify the day I fell down to my knees, accepted Jesus as my savior?
On that day, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my failures’.
Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road. This light never left you.
My sweet child did you not listen,
Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible.
My child, you were not searching for the right answers.
My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray enough?
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself,
I always answered even when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your soul's disguises.
Lord, I have other questions to ask.
What should I expect out of my personal sins?
My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand
My mind and my heart's inner core have been wicked since my adolescence--
How is it that I am in your promise land?
Getting right with me has brought you here!
One more question My Heavenly Father
Can I see My Daughter, Mothers, Sisters, family, and friends?
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
They met at first around sixteen,while they were in their teens.
A young man tall and handsome, a girl with many dreams.
Years later they did meet again this time he was smitten.
It took some time to hook this girl, eventually their history written.
He had a plan to marry her and move her from her home.
She'd have to leave her roots, the only thing she'd known.
Leave her home and family was what she had to do,
The love they shared was eternal even though it 'twas brand new.
This love they shared was a gift,their faith was also strong
They both loved many similar things like fishing, books and song.
Seven children blessed their lives, they started their own tree
So strong this love they shared, became one large family.
Both worked hard to raise them, devoted to each one,
They shared their love equally to each daughter and each son.
Education and faith were important, practiced with daily prayer
They fed and clothed this family with love and tremendous care
Each child was very different and different paths they took.
Educators, artists, builders, Lawyers and even cooks.
Each child found their partners, some added children to each branch.
All love music, all loved to read, a few even like to dance.
Their children had more children and the two were greatly blessed,
With lovely grandchildren with many traits that both these two possessed
What remained from the love they shared twas passed down through the line
A love this strong must be shared and it surpassed all time
Four generations have now developed from these two whose love began
So many years before when both had shared a plan.
Each twig shares a piece and resembles one or the other
For this love story that's been described was about a Father and Mother
I'd love to say they share a life together here today
But God had different plans in mind, for one he took away
The void he left was devastating to everyone you see
Hardest on the one for which he shared atop the tree
The plan these two created at the time they were entwined
Continues on by one so strong , who giveth all of her time
To the tree these two created which grows branches to this day
The love created by these two shall never go
Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
As the tides slowly recede
Remnants left upon the shore
Reflecting beneath the sunlight
That bathes them now, from beyond the once obscure depths
Shimmering and glistening, souvenirs to soon be found and held
By the eager eyes of a childs tender hands
Whom shall rescue them, from their once solitude
No longer their existence without a purpose
For a gleeful heart will bring them home
To be treasured, for countless years to come
And the tales which they shall both then share
Within the smiling whispers amid the night
Innocence of purities never ceasing hearts
Still capable of dreaming, all things beautiful and true
Enchatings impossible, beyond the imaginaries of hope
Stories from the waters, that washed them across all time
Into the warmth of a perfect child
That breathed the breath of belonging, for them both
Through the many magical wonders, of unsullied sight
Thousands of years upon their journies, to this destiny they have arrived
Beneath the glories of Heavens always knowing
Their fate, and their final resting place
In the softness of the endlessness, of the majestical splendors of a child
Where through they crossed these dark and murkened currents, to someday arrive
To be loved within restoration, was their longing and belief
All along as they journied, through this realm of translucent space
This place between nothing, toward these havens of faith
Dlivered from the shadows, into the light of conditions no more
Belonging to their finding, a million stories to be unveiled
To the amazement of a child, whom saw their reason from afar
As with joy they embraced them, and held them close to their heart
Cast upon the shores, glittering treasures beneath this sun
Gathered by the hands, of a perfect one
Beyond the night, it was love, that finally won
The reasons for it all, wrapped eternally, within the purities from above....
The Seashell and The Child
Copyright © John Rhinem | Year Posted 2008
To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
God is always love
Forever seek the kingdom;
Praise the creator
Keep giving what you can give
Please endure until the end
Protecting the meek ones earth
Watching over us
Helping us to cope with life
Comforted with hope and trust
When you find rhythm
You find your hearts inner core
Celebrate the times
Make them better than before
Reminisce and dance all night
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2013
His daddy is fighting in Iraq.
His mommy is fighting tears.
His brother is fighting death.
He is fighting his desolation and fears.
Friends are but a dream
and companions are an illusion.
School is a concentration camp,
but he stands, though alone, in the midst of confusion.
His training school is loneliness.
His milestones are fears, thrust in lies.
His only weapon is faith
and his bullets are soft "hallelujah" cries.
Strength left his fragile body
and he lost the fight in life so coy,
yet on his knees he conquered agony
and I call him the little soldier boy.
Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013
" From the debt of my heart"
The African child
Sat behind the bamboo fence
He was sober and tense
Sputtering and wondering.
He forsook the bush meat
And the gathering under the moonlight
For sobriety and the causes of his uncertainties.
His clothes were like dried leaves
His feet like openings in the eaves
He longed to see a brighter tomorrow
He clarified the causes of his sorrow;
Sins of the father,
Fighting not to make things better
Therefore darkening the weather,
Making his destiny falter and bitter.
Tears exuded from the sound of his flute,
His fears enlarged like a parachute
But one thing he never understood,
Watch and pray, oh! African root
For your foundation is stinky, filthy,
Faulty and guilty...... watch and pray.
Copyright © Charles Melody Lightning Ink | Year Posted 2011
There once was a day I would watch every airplane.
Praying you was on it to come take me away.
As a child I wanted you around until the day, you actually came.
The day you came is the day my life forever changed.
I remember as if it was yesterday when you physically violated me.
Mental visions as early as the age of eight, but old enough to vociferate.
Visualizing mental pictures in my mind while I am awake very aware of the improper abuse I take.
Your body on me feels something like an autopsy of a dead body.
While you lay on top of me as you press aggressively on me.
Against my will your force kept me still.
I am trying to understand if you recognize who I am.
I try to say no hoping you can comprehend; I am weakling as you apprehend.
Mentally and physically I became involuntarily your property.
A main character in a horror story, and you were my predatory.
I asked “God why?” as I bare to stare into his eyes.
This is not thee love I seek; all I wanted was my father to love me, but not like this injustice of violation of my rights.
This love is not real; not the love I wished to feel.
As he tries to stick his tongue into my mouth too young to know what this is all about.
I grip my lips painfully tight as he tries to slip his tongue inside.
I close them tighter with all my might, as he whispers, “let me love you right”
I beg him to leave as he pried my legs open with his knees my insides scream “somebody please help me!”
As he whispers how much he loves me I’m praying for God to just kill me.
I rather be dead then a man’s punching bag.
As I lay there my body was dead, and I laid my soul to rest.
I looked around the room and seen the Old Spice on the desk the same fragrance he wore around his neck.
The sun began to rise as he began to close my thighs.
In that moment in time I had made up my mind any man that ever say they love me was just telling lies.
I learned the hard way that love does not kill your inside; love does not take your pride.
A fatherless child I shall forever reside.
Every day that passes that little eight-year-old girl dies slowly inside.
Asking Jesus,” Why permit this?” and he slowly whispers…as I gently whimpers, “faith is the light that guide you through the darkness, my words reflecting as a lamp unto my feet.”
“Walk unto my path I’m here to carry the weak, come into me you are weary and overburdened. I will carry the pain you have obtained.”
“I am your father and you are my child you are never fatherless because I’m always around.”
Copyright © twanna Irisha | Year Posted 2012
When I said what I said I felt justified
I thought surely that God would be on my side
Quoting from scripture I relied on the word
A book filled with love that my heart somehow blurred
I picked up his gift, turned it into a stick
Not following God's lead I made my own pick
Instead I chose to read with encumbered mind
My eyes were wide open, still my soul was blind
Yet within his word my mind would be set free
I learned those other people were just like me
None of us perfect we all have our flaws
We all need acceptance we're not just some cause
Loving each person one moment at a time
When I am not judging, I witness them shine
Each person is perfect in their special way
Accepting like a child I learn how to play
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
Years have passed since I buried you
beneath green grasses drenched with dew;
I placed the blossoms, one by one,
a blanket for my only son,
you, my heart's flower, blooming fair,
a mother's rose, uniquely rare.
The bitter grief bubbles inside,
rolling hot waves, a searing tide,
dark desperate, wrenching prayers,
sharp, shattered facets of despair.
Anguish climbs this long hill with me,
the crest of which I never see.
How can one stand beside the mound
where love's sweet baby flesh lays bound?
Faith defies sensibility
and blossoms in eternity.
March 28, 2015
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
“They’re taking away our freedom!”
So, many people say.
“They took the Bible out of school;
Our kids are not allowed to pray!”
“The pledge of allegiance they have banned
Because it mentions God.
The Ten Commandments are taboo
Upon the campus sod.”
But, before such rulings of the Court,
Back in the “good old days”,
Did we really read God’s book in school?
And how often did we pray?
Do you teach your kids to pray each night,
Before they go to bed?
When school is out, and they are home,
Do they hear the Bible read?
Train up your children, after school,
And before each school day starts--
What you teach your kids at home
Is what they’ll cherish in their hearts.
Copyright © William Robinson | Year Posted 2005
There is nothing with so much life as a Christmas snow
The crisp air is still as little dancing stars float to the earth
Strong old trees become burdened with drifts of white upon their bows
But seem honored to be dressed in such finery and appear almost to move
In fact, everything has come to life to watch the snowfall.
Then everything is quiet
There is a whisper in the air
It ripples through the trees
See the birds, they are the first to recognize the whisper
As the Masters of Chorus, the birds know it is a song
They sit as true musicians memorizing the lyrics and rhythm
So, the snow speaks, the voice is old, like it has sung this song many times
As the squirrels could tell you this is a lullaby, and they begin to search from their
perches in the trees for the newborn
And life and love has never felt as strong as now
A horse in its pastures stomps his foot disturbed
Though he hears the song the birds do and the lullaby the squirrels hear, he,
along with all of the worlds creatures, could swear he just heard a cry
The squirrels chatter with laughter, knowing they where right and the birds take
up the snow-song to welcome the child they heard cry
And then they stop and the world is silent
The snow has stopped falling
The cry was only a memory from Christmas long past
The child, a child of time whose
Voice comes with the Christmas snows,
To give every soul the chance to hear
The song of joy and love and beginning,
So it is never forgotten;
The song of the Christmas Snow
Copyright © misty hunter | Year Posted 2007
Deal with your servant according to your love and teach me your decrees
And the Lord said unto me, “Rise above your own despair”
"Offer your soul unto me; I will free you of this Prison cell"
I ask Lord how can this be, “this cell is my home it is all I have left”
As suddenly as flowers bloom in the spring, I was free inside
The tears fell like two giant waterfalls cascading down my face
And the Lord ask of me, “Take pen in hand and seek what you desire”
From inside a Prison cell I was set free within; filled with the Holy Ghost
Page by page I started seeking the truth as fiery tongues filled my pages
Through the Lord a violent inmate was placed in a cell, by his grace
The man who walked out of that cell,” I am Poet, A child of God”
This poem was written for Brian's contest
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009
"Show us God", they cried aloud
Said with trickery from the crowd
Then a faint voice served with smile
Said, "Look my friends,
Look at the child!"
Brenda Elizabeth Rose
Copyright © Brenda Rose | Year Posted 2015
Lord, do You remember me?
I once sat upon your knee.
You were my Father, I, your child
in your presence small and mild.
You carried me when I felt faint.
You suffered for me without complaint.
You forgave me for my transgressions
and led me down the path of your direction.
Lord, do You remember me?
I search for You on bended knee.
With head bowed low, I humbly pray,
Lord, please fill me with your love today.
I’ll take the time to converse with You
and listen as your voice rings through.
I know You’ve never gone away.
It was I who fell and went astray.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
As a child wandering aimlessly through the streets of life
Looking for guidance and advice
Wishing for love and understanding.
Searching to find answers to the unanswered questions.
With no one to turn to
and no one to trust
A child sits and cries lonely and unsure of life.
Looks to the sky on a darkened night
Using the stars as a map this time
Is there anyone out there who cares what happens?
When will someone hear the cries of pain and confusion?
With little hope and no faith
A child was saved by god’s grace.
Showing himself through the hurt and doubt
He reached his hand out
He carried the child while showing love.
He opened up his heart and his soul
Holding a trembling hand of child’s shaking faith
God said, “Do not be scared of the unknown”
Walk with me and you will never be alone.
I will protect you from Lucifer’s games
And will give you the strength and courage it takes
To face the demons you are running from on the streets
Sinners are among you in this life
But you have the grace of God tonight.
Copyright © cory long | Year Posted 2013
This poem covers the greatest story ever told
Greater than all the kings and all their gold
This story will bring about deep reflection
Starting with the Immaculate Conception
Of all the stories this is the greatest of all
A complex child born in a simple stall
Quickly the news covered the land
A virgin would be Gods right hand
Inside of her womb a God to a son
Imagine this story has just begun
Everyone knew this child was born to design
Just open your heart and look for the sign
Harrod was driven by fear of not being so great
The first-born son was Harrods fate
Jesus escaped the King and awaited the call
To become the greatest glory of all
This is my master this is our Lord
He is the wielder and we are the sword
He chose his disciples of simple men
Hear tell one was straight out of the pen
The Pharisees called on Pilot the king
At the end he said, “I wash my hands of this thing”
I wonder if when Pilot stepped up to the gate
Jesus washed his hands to seal Pilots fate
Or if he opened his arms to welcome him in
Forgiving Pilot of all of his sins
We took our Lord then nailed him to the cross
As far as humanity that was our greatest loss
But through all the loss just look at the gain
Bought by our Lord through sacrifice and pain
Over 2000 years after this child was born
He came to the prison to make my heart warm
Gave me a gift then our Lord set me free
I reckon the rest would be up to me
As you dress up the tree and hang up the lights
Think of the story of our Lords plight
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2007
A small grave, and for it's weeds was bare
with only a handmade wooden cross.
Easy to see that a child rest there.
Poor unloved young soul was my first thought.
Well I read this cross, for this child of grief.
"John my young son so frail and fair
my joy, my love, my life I leave
to the arms of your mother and Lord's care."
The back read; "To doctors all my money I gave
I cannot buy even a simple stone
with a borrowed spade, I have dug your grave,
I carve this marker, and am now alone."
That wooden cross, seemed to rise
high above great marble markers.
Thoughts rush my mind as I realized
the pain this poor man's heart had harbored.
Never again his son he will see
knowing his child would rests under cold ground.
As unkempt as this grave seemed to be,
with it's wooden cross and it’s weeds all around.
I pulled at those weeds with my bare hand
then my flowers I laid at the foot of that cross.
I prayed "Please God, help me understand"
as I felt the pain of another man's loss.
Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2007
God's little children are precious,
They are gifts that God gives to us.
God will guide us to teach them to be sweet,
His word will help us to share, which is neat.
Jesus had experience as a small child,
He is an example to us, tame or wild.
Each child needs to see Jesus' love through us,
Through our witnessing, these children will trust.
Singing or saying a little prayer each day,
This will help little children to walk God's way.
Jesus' footprints are the way to the light,
We lead our children with all of our might.
God's pure and perfect love are what we need,
Leading a child is how we plant a seed.
Teaching our children to pray,
Helps them to know what to say.
They will learn to seek His wisdom and love,
These children will seek for strength from above.
Copyright © Kathy Gillet | Year Posted 2007
Yesterday,a ghost of someone better haunting in the shadows that he hath
banished it to.
I will bring you back.
From death and darkness to the light I will resurrect you to former greatness with
a last hope at her hand.
Better man she loved so long ago...I am not dead.
Wounded child hath sent you in jealousy to live beneath selfish pride and
careless discontent of the perfect life...of the perfect lady.
I will bring you back.
To the surface to resurface faith in those who had given up.
To heal those hurt by his ways.
To break the silence.
Don't lose faith love...I am not dead.
Yesterday, I will bring you to life once more.
Kind and caring, truthful and committed.
Selfish child sent back...I have much to prove.
Much to make up.Much living left to do.
Don't forget Love...I am not dead.
Copyright © Seth Medeiros | Year Posted 2007
"You," my unborn child, "I long to hold;"
"You my unborn child, "I will love forever, as
our lives unfold."
" I know God has you in Heaven, waiting somewhere,
and in His time, your love I will share."
"He alone will provide the way;"
"You my unborn child, are in my prayers everyday."
"I know you will be special in every way," and
fill my life with joy everyday."
"Your tiny hands and your cute little smile,
such a bundle of love, you will be my sweet child."
"I will be right here, a mother waiting to be, and
when God is ready, He will send you to me."
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2007
Someone touched me
And I didn't know it.
Again, he touched me
And I was awaken;
Awaken from a cold blooded sleep.
I foreknew this hand that touched me
But his face, so bright, I can't behold...
How could I not know whose hand it is?
This hand bruised and perforated,
With a touch so soft and gentle...
It's nothing like the touch of a mere man.
It was HIM who touched me
And yes!, it was his touch that woke me.
It was by his touch that I was rescued
Awaken from my slumbering bed
Where I laid and didn't know I was dead.
How would I have known
That I was long gone
On an untimely sojourn
To the place of no return
If not that he touched my soul?
But he didn't just touch me...
Right there on her knees
With tears on her cheeks
She prayed ceaselessly
On her child's lifeless body
Laid before the altar...
That child was me—
Already dead and deceased.
She knew he would hear her call.
She knew the power of his touch
For she had been touched once before
So she begged same for her son
Believing the mighty one will yield her voice
And breathe life back into mama's little one.
Her tearful cries were not in vein
Her son regained life once again.
And the great pains with which she came
Melted away at the mention of Jesus Name.
The one who came with her lifeless son calling
Returns home with dancing and joyful singing.
Ebenezer O. Akinrinade
+2347035051509, +2348027701092 (whatsapp)
Tweet: @gent2smile / @EbenAkinrinade
**[Note: This is a true life story of what happened to me as a child.]
© Ebenezer Akinrinade
Copyright © Ebenezer Akinrinade | Year Posted 2016
i am a black child
who always stand strong
who's been through thick and thin
sometimes right,sometimes wrong
but no matter what i continue strong
i've fought the rain and ready 4 the storm
i am a black child
on my shoulder u can lean
i know what i know,butw do u know what i mean
it's me who will always be a friend
u may hurt me on the outside,but not deep withine
i am a black child
and yeah i love it,black beautiful,and strong
and not ashamed of it
now heres the time 4 everyone to see
i am a black child a black child that's me
by larrinita starks .......
Copyright © larrinita starks | Year Posted 2008
God has a plan,
And it is out of my hands.
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
Copyright © Amy Rose | Year Posted 2013
Train Up A Child
“Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.” Prov 22:6 NIV
Train up a child—
To know the wisdom of God,
So that when that child is older,
They’ll have good habits to applaud.
Your children need your guidance;
They know not what is right;
They also need a good example,
So they can live upright.
Train up a child in obedience,
So self will not reign;
Teach them to love others;
From sharing not refrain.
Read to your children;
Teach them of God’s love,
Show them from the scriptures—
The promise of eternity above.
How you train your child,
Will mean life or death;
Train your child for eternity—
Far more precious than wealth.
Teach patience and persistence;
These traits aren’t natural,
But are essential in life’s journey—
To the life eternal.
Train up a child—
To see what the Lord says on a matter;
Show them Christ as the advisor;
Our provider and the Savior.
Be considerate of your children—
They are people too;
Always love and cherish them,
As your Father loves and cherishes you.
Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2010
Copyright © MAUREEN LEFANUE | Year Posted 2012
Every heartbeat is bestowed upon,
Compassion embraces a child eternally
That uplifts a child’s soul in isolation in every way.
Copyright © Bhavna khemlani | Year Posted 2013
As the sunsets at the end of the day,
And the night begins to fall,
So, does all the dreams of all the little children,
In their own wonderlands of their own,
Wishing and thinking of great things to come,
Hoping their parents will make these dreams come alive,
Cause dreams to children should become bright and gleam,
And all to them more than just alive,
All children want is hopes and dreams to become true,
But if you can teach them how to work hard at them,
They too can make their dreams become their own reality,
For any one person works hard enough,
At what they want in life,
They can have any one thing they want,
All they have to do is work really hard to make it real,
For believers can believe in themselves,
And strive to work toward making their own goals,
Their very own come true,
Which gives more satisfaction in life,
Than things being handed to you,
So always strive for the best,
And all your wishes and dreams can come true,
In your life if you want them too.
Copyright © John Hembree | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
It is my father's land
It is my mother's land
It is my home land
They call it the dark continent
We call it Africa
But I call it My Continent
My continent is in total darkness
Except for a few deem of light
Which they are trying to put off
Though there are lots of candles to light
Yet still my people cannot light the candles themselves
But I will rise up
I will rise up with the help of my people
And light each and every corner of my continent
And in the new bright light of AFRICA
THE AFRICAN CHILD WILL CRY NO MORE
Copyright © Amie Sallah | Year Posted 2005
my hidden diamond
love's sweet jewel
Beauty so pure
your character delights
my devotion forever
Heartbeat on screen
My unbelief ceased
first squeezed my finger
Copyright © Christina Holmes | Year Posted 2013