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Evelyn Simon Poem
The thrash of the waves stings my skin,
The angry winds are billowing in.
I can see the lightning and I hear the thunder,
The force of the sea has taken me under.
I desperately swam to reach the top.
Until I am safe, I will not stop.
Oh no, here comes a wave striking me again.
I refuse to allow the rage of the sea drown me in sin.
Copyright © Evelyn Simon | Year Posted 2008
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Evelyn Simon Poem
Oh Lord, anoint my eyes so I may see your glory.
Oh Lord, anoint my ears so I may hear your instructions.
Oh Lord, anoint my mouth so I may speak of your existence.
Oh Lord, anoint my mind so I may think on things that are righteous.
Oh Lord, anoint my heart that it remains open to your word.
Oh Lord, anoint my faith so it will not waver in times of trouble.
Oh Lord, anoint my soul so it can live in heaven with you forever.
Oh Lord, anoint my hands to lay upon the sick and they be healed.
Oh Lord, anoint my legs for them to walk by faith.
Oh Lord, anoint my feet to walk in the right path.
Oh Lord, anoint my nose to smell your sweet fragrance.
Oh Lord, anoint my patience to achieve great virtue.
Oh Lord, deliver me from those who in the past, has done me wrong.
Oh Lord, all these things I ask in Jesus name. Amen.
Copyright © Evelyn Simon | Year Posted 2008
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Evelyn Simon Poem
I nudged my way through the crowd,
I heard men and women shout aloud.
“Jesus!”
I stretched my neck as I stood on my tiptoes.
Another shout arose.
“Who will you choose?
Barabbas, or Jesus, king of the Jews?”
Barabbas’s name filled the air,
while the badly-beaten Jesus just stood there.
The Roman soldiers took Jesus away; the people made their choice,
there was nothing left to say.
At the site where He was crucified,
His followers hung their heads and cried.
A long steel nail was placed in the palm of His hand;
the soldier drove it in upon command.
A tall man blocked my view,
as the crowd pushed their way through.
The soldiers hoist the large cross, and it fell into a hole in the ground;
it created a thump of a sound.
Blood from the crown of thorns fell into His eyes, just as
He looked up at the sky.
He called to God His father, with authority.
He looked down at His mother, Mary.
“It is finished,” He said.
The next minute, He was dead.
A travail of cries echoed the air,
while the soldiers gambled for His robe without a care.
I pushed my way through.
A man stepped in front of me and asked, “Are you a Jew?”
I pulled away and said,
“Please, please, I have to see this man who died on Calvary!”
I looked upon Him, so frail and drawn.
I whispered, “Is He really gone?”
I heard a voice in my mind say to me, “I died for you so that you might be free.”
Copyright © Evelyn Simon | Year Posted 2008
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