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Debra Irsik Poem
"Wind Song"
Whispering secrets heard, as she passes through the trees
Fluttering, shaking, caressing, thousands of shimmering leaves
She cools the farmers brow, whips up dust devils in the fields
Bringing the scent of rain and hope of better yields
Flag gently waving with abreath of air
Or billowing wildly with a gust and fanfare
Dancing on the pavement, leaves crisp and brown
Swirling high in the air, slowly spiraling down
Holding the magic of a trains' lonesome notes
Cherishing a memory as the song softly floats
Oh! and the fury of the hurricane gale
Or spinning and churning, as a tornado spits hail
She soothes us... she cools us... her repertoire has no end
This blustering, billowing, breezy, thing called simply...Wind
Debra Irsik
Copyright © Debra Irsik | Year Posted 2015
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Debra Irsik Poem
Blessed Mother
Blessed Mother you answered the call
Holy Mother of Jesus and of us all
It must have been hard to watch him grow to a man
Knowing that "He" was the sacrificial lamb
Did you call out to God to change the plan of salvation
To save your son over all creation
I feel your pain, your anguish and tears
The times you wanted to hide from your fears
To steal Him away, protect Him from fate
Begging the Father to let him escape
But deep in your heart you stayed true and strong
You knew to obey, to resist would be wrong
Knowing from the start, His destiny was set in stone
You raised and loved Him, though not truly your own
I honor you Holy Mother of God
I thank you for this rocky path you've trod
I pray to persevere in the trials I face
To use your model of love and grace
Debra Irsik
Copyright © Debra Irsik | Year Posted 2015
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Debra Irsik Poem
Hero's Reward
A warrior wears his battle scars
with pride upon his face.
Across his breast a row of stars,
he brings us no disgrace.
He's welcomed with a big parade,
"Hero," they proclaim;
but in his heart the whole charade
pounds within his brain.
The memories haunt his every dream
no sleep is ever content.
Faces; women and children scream
the weapon's round is spent.
Each life is counted on this earth.
All children are held dear.
Somewhere she who gave him birth,
shall never hold him near.
The terrors implode, consume his life.
He can't work or play or joke.
He has no friends, no job, nor wife,
He's hungry, lonely and broke.
"It's a syndrome," or some big name,
"Send him to a shrink. "
There has to be something to blame.
but it's not what one would think.
He is not weak or just depressed.
His demons drive him mad!
Another "Hero" is sent to test,
we say, "it's just too bad."
by
Debra Irsik
Copyright © Debra Irsik | Year Posted 2015
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Debra Irsik Poem
Not Judgment Day
I awoke with a start, still in my bed.
All of the images locked in my head.
Standing before Him, the "Book of Life" in His hand.
He said, "It is not judgment day, you'll soon understand."
The Book is laid open, my name carved inside.
He beckons, "Come closer there is nothing to hide.
I know your shortcomings, your ins and your outs.
That is not what this day is about."
"It seems you are concerned with the judgment of others.
You scorn the sins of your sisters and brothers.
I bring you here to point out some facts.
To bring your attention to your own sinful acts."
"There was a man on the street and you looked down your nose.
He was hungry and lonely and wore tattered clothes.
I urged you to stop..or say a quick prayer,
but you kept right on walking as if he weren't there."
" A friend was in pain over her daughter's abortion.
You listened and prayed with her but your mind was in motion.
(The girl is immoral, white trash, a lost cause.)
Then, you added murder to the list without pause."
"Did you drop to your knees, send me a prayer,
or think to ask, "Lord, are you there?"
"No, You raised her sin above all the rest.
In your mind you list them from the worst to the best."
"I forgive you when you slander and blame,
break my commandments, use my name in vain.
You're guilty of gossip, vanity, pride.. and much worse.
You tell little white lies, you're a glutton, you curse."
Only I can know what a heart truly holds,
If they might repent and reach lofty goals."
Your job is to listen, to pray, and send them home.
The Judgment rests here; It is MINE alone."
Copyright © Debra Irsik | Year Posted 2015
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