Details |
Holly Smith Poem
You will remove the roadblocks that block my paths each day
You will not hamper what I do to succeed in my own way
You will not play your high pitched notes within my deafened ears
And take your hands from off my mind, and stop it with your fears
You will stop harassing me because I belong to Him
You will remove your minions now who paint the shadows grim
You will realize I have power that goes beyond this realm
He who shared the victory is stationed at the helm
You cannot overcome Him or steal me from His Father
You do not have the power to take my soul, don't bother
You will listen to my orders and heed the words I say
I know my place within the kingdom and don't get in my way
You will stop it with the H.A.A.R.P. toy and taking people down
And cease from tearing up the homes in neighborhoods and towns
And halt your little puppet show in Washington, DC
And get your hand now off this nation's blood bought liberty
You better realize you're in for a fight, a fight you will not win
I've been bought with sinless blood, by a King who had no sin
He's the one you came against and failed to win His throne
But that belongs to no one else except the Cornerstone
You will stop your taunting that amounts to nothing good
And leave this house and take your bones that wear that dark robed hood
Ever since the dawn of time you’ve constantly deceived
But I know Him whom I’ve believed so consider yourself relieved
June 7, 2013
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Holly Smith Poem
Sitting alone in the light of the moon
Twirling my glass of red wine
I retreated back into my cocoon
But still felt a chill up my spine
Something flew by in front of the moon
With a silhouette of a wide wing span
Its feathers flapped slow as it sang a tune
Its wings spread out in a fan
Then off he went out into the night
A raptor soaring in flight
The environment alive in the moonlight
Was an awesome yet fearful sight
The quiet stillness of the midnight air
Was a mystically charged atmosphere
With all my senses alive and aware
I wondered what next would appear
The skeletal branches of a tree
Looked grim in the luminous glow
A leaf came loose and floated free
To the leaf carpeted lawn below
I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep
And dreamed of a forest of trees
And beyond the entrance further in deep
The temperature dropped thirty degrees
I snapped awake then in a flash
With a feeling of foreboding
And didn't really want to rehash
The message too obscure for decoding
I awoke to see in front of me
The same old leaf shedding tree
I thought I heard it speak to me
But honestly, how could that be?
I noticed the tree appeared forlorn
My thoughts were definitely wild
For it was only a honey locust thorn
What some people often reviled
I turned in for the evening after that
Then heard a light tapping on the pane
I saw it wasn't my Maine Coon cat
That’s when I went totally insane
A limb of that tree pointed towards me
Like a finger of a human hand
No more wine but Sleepy time tea
For me, I'm sure you understand
September 20, 2012
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Holly Smith Poem
I'm faithful to the talent given me
and so remain a worker of word craft,
for daily do I write my poetry
and praise my God for each and every draft.
To pen a line or two and maybe more
brings satisfaction like a warm embrace
that gives the reason what I'm living for,
although I struggle in this final race.
God gives the grace that's needed in this life
along with peace he promises to me,
the battles of a world that's filled with strife
have always been and will proceed to be.
I give my all to gifts he gave to me,
a faithful writer I will ever be.
August 1, 2013
Copyright © 2013 H. L. Smith
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Holly Smith Poem
(Nonet)
The heart of the eagle fills with grief
as she flies over our nation
and sees the death of freedom.
Her tears fall over all
America, land
of tyranny,
no longer
of the
free.
June 16, 2013
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Holly Smith Poem
He stood there in the streetlight looking somber,
I didn't know whether to trust him or to run;
his eerie shadow stretched long on the pavement
I saw beneath his duster the glint of a gun.
The night air held a chill upon the breeze,
the blood within my veins came close to jell;
but warmth began to flow as his lips parted
and as he spoke I fell under his spell.
He told me he was a wanted man out west,
close to Pima County he was framed.
He said, "I shot a man in self defense,
but gunned him down in cold blood, the sheriff claimed."
"Can you find it in your heart to help me out, Mam?
I need a place to stay to hide away,
I promise you I'll hit the road tomorrow
before the sunrise greets another day."
I looked into his whiskered face and stuttered,
"Just so happens there's a place out back,
at the edge of the field behind my house.
It's nothing but a tidy little shack."
He said, "That be fine, Mam, thank you kindly."
He jumped in back of my old Ford pickup truck.
I dropped him off at the shack and headed home
but I hollered back at him and wished him luck.
Because I figured that's the last time I'd see him
and I was right because no sign of him by dawn;
not a ruffled sheet left of his presence,
like a dream he was there and now was gone.
Fifteen years had passed before I knew it
since the whiskered stranger in the night,
I wondered if he might've been a phantom
and if that sheriff shot him in his last gunfight.
August 7, 2013
Copyright © 2013 H. L. Smith
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Holly Smith Poem
the time clicks on amid the toil and pain
it never stops to pause with mercy now
and if it had a mind it'd go insane
and stop to wipe the sweat off of its brow
with eyes to see from ever since its dawn
time witnessed things that it and God could see
down through the ancient eras now long gone
destruction's path has never ceased to be
the beauty of an earth so rich and good
was made by God with love for humankind
He held back judgment longer than He should
to give lost hearts a chance to change their mind
the time is now a minute to midnight
look unto Him and He will give you light
September 8, 2013
Copyright © 2013 H. L. Smith
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Holly Smith Poem
(Nonet)
Sunday wakes to a pink horizon,
new day is a gift wrapped surprise.
Miracles await many
who with open hearts will
believe and receive,
with gratitude,
blessings of
any
size.
June 16, 2013
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Holly Smith Poem
To find the one that I adore
May take awhile or even more;
God knows what I am looking for
My compass points to southern shores.
I know that seems so faraway
And that is what they always say;
Love has no boundaries anyway,
Somehow I'll find him, come what may.
I hear a whisper through the trees
And feel the comfort of a heavenly breeze,
But I long for the song that comes from the seas,
I pray that God will hear my pleas.
Some days in grief my heart is done
With all the searching for that One.
It seems that Time and days outrun
My strength and hope and bright shining sun.
But when I find him, will he care,
Will he be that answer to prayer?
I hope he's dark and debonair
And is that gem that's rather rare.
Hope deferred makes the heart sick
But a poet's heart is rather thick;
It beats on with the sound of a tick
And bleeds out words not missing a lick.
Where on earth would be this guy?
Ok, I don't care if he's shy.
I hope he's clever as a fox is sly
And surfaces soon before I die.
June 21, 2013
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Holly Smith Poem
Picked Clean
I've talked about the weather,
I've talked about true love.
I wrote about the locust trees
And the painted sky above.
I've touched upon the songbirds,
And river's serene flow,
And wonders of the twilight hour
And the moon's mystical glow.
I've brushed on urgent topics,
The news in alternate view
Of tyranny in government
And distress of the red, white, and blue.
I've written of raging battles
Between the good and bad
And spiritual forces in high places
That drives this nation mad.
I've written praise and worship songs
That gives the Lord God praise
While feeling quite abandoned
Through many darkened days.
I've disclosed some private thoughts
That burdened my own mind;
I've often written words on death
The only peace I find.
Today I struggle once again
On this rainy, cloudy day
With pen poised to the paper lines
To find just what to say.
I celebrate the freedom
To write the words I please
As another Memorial Day passes by
With a dank and fickle breeze.
And kind of like the vulture does
I've picked the carcass clean,
I've ripped the flesh exposing bone
With nothing left between.
The blood of words has formed a puddle
And quickly dried to black,
And if I linger in the road
I'll be the vulture's snack.
May 29, 2013
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Holly Smith Poem
A group called They think They've got it licked
How are They able to predict
I'm sure you've heard of them before
They amazingly think They know the score
Who are these people we call They
Why is it They must convey
The rules for every mortal soul
As if these folks had total control
How can I trust these people They
How can I trust the words They say
Where do They come from, how many are They
Do They hold my fate in this game They play
Do They know me and the things I've seen
Are They upstanding or downright obscene
Do They worship God or the devil in hell
How can They presume to know things well
They say today will be stormy skies
They say that prices will soon rise
They got a handle much better than spies
They're experts at what They surmise
Maybe someday I'll get to meet They
I wonder if They're related to the N.O.A.A.
Don't bet all your money on what They say
They just might lead us all astray
May 31, 2013
Copyright © Holly Smith | Year Posted 2013
|