Best Ministered Poems
It was something
that brought a smile
to my face.
It had unusual underpinnings
with desirable overtones,
a pleasurable experience
as I wandered aimlessly
through concoctions Neanderthal
perpetuations ministered aloft
in dreams drearily
bound by time, space
glittery amidst synchronizing
to a land of make-believe
where all desires
could be fulfilled
it tantalized senses
drifting through subconscious
perplexity illuminating
dismal repercussions stifled
by cold truths.
FROM THE MOMENT THAT SHE MET HIM
SHE WAS AWESTRUCK!!!
HE HAD THE WORDS, HE HAD THE CLOTHES, HE HAD THE LOOK
HE HAD THIS SMOOTH, UNCANNY WAY
THAT EASED HIM RIGHT THROUGH HER DEFENSES
THAT LEFT HER DANGLING, HELPLESS...FROM HIS HOOK
SHE WAS A CHRISTIAN WOMAN, AND
SHE MINISTERED IN CHURCH
HAD NEVER KNOWN A MAN LIKE THIS BEFORE
A MAN WHO KNEW THE BIBLE
EVERY CHAPTER...EVERY VERSE
A CHARISMA, SHE FOUND TOO HARD TO IGNORE
HE DATED HER THE CHRISTIAN WAY
SHE MET HIS FAMILY
THIS HUMAN BROOM, WHO SWEPT HER OFF HER FEET
RESISTING EVERY SEXUAL URGE
UNTIL THEIR WEDDING NIGHT
BUT ON THAT NIGHT, HE TOOK HER, HOT, AND SWEET
HER SPIRIT KNEW, BEFORE HER "MIND" CAUGHT ON
SOMETHING HAD CHANGED
A HORROR UNEXPLAINED HAD GRIPPED HER SOUL
THIS CHRISTIAN MAN SHE MARRIED
HAD TURNED OUT TO BE A DEMON
AND HER COMPLETE DESTRUCTION, WAS HIS GOAL
WITH COLD METHODIC PURPOSE
HE HAD PLANNED HIS WIFE'S DEMISE
HE GAVE HER AIDS, AND THOUGHT HER FATE WAS SEALED
SHE WAS SHAKEN, BUT NOT BROKEN
AND WITH STEADFAST FAITH, SHE SHOUTED...
"THANK YOU JESUS! BY HIS STRIPES, I'M HEALED!!!
HE HAD COME TO CHURCH TO FIND A SAINT
WHOSE LIFE HE COULD DESTROY
THE DEVIL WRAPPED, IN CHRISTIAN MALE ATTIRE
HE GOT IN THROUGH HER EGO
AND DESIRE TO BE LOVED
BUT OH PRAISE GOD, THE DEVIL IS A LIAR
THE LESSON HERE, THE DEVIL
GOES TO CHURCH AS MUCH AS YOU DO
DELIGHTING IN DESTRUCTION OF THE FLOCK
AND SHOULD YOU FIND YOURSELF A TARGET
OF HIS DEADLY PURPOSE
REMEMBER, ALWAYS...JESUS, IS YOUR ROCK!
AMEN!
THIS MAN CALLED JESUS - 3
He left His home in glory
And came as a babe to earth
Born in the town of Bethlehem
To a mother of virgin birth
He worked as the son of a carpenter
Till He reached His thirtieth year
Then ministered with twelve chosen men
Performing miracles everywhere
On a cross He was cruelly crucified
His life blood He freely shed
He was buried in a borrowed tomb
Three days later, He arose from the dead
He ascended to His Father in Heaven
He will sit in judgment of men
Make this Man called Jesus your Savior
Thank God, He’s coming again!
Curtis Moorman
12 June 2013
Wending my way down a country road in my air-conditioned car,
In yon vale a weathered church steeple beckoned me from afar.
'Twas Sunday morning and the clarion peal of its bell caught my ear.
There stood a simple House of God with a graveyard in the rear.
My faithfulness in matters religious had never been that good,
Since attending Church and Sunday School in my childhood.
But something ethereal drew me to that bucolic setting so serene;
I craved deliverance from my stressful and very hectic routine.
I unobtrusively entered the sanctuary and sat in the very last pew.
An elderly pastor ministered to his flock, who numbered a scanty few.
The ancient hymns they sang evoked fond memories as a lad;
My eyes grew misty as I recalled singing them with Mom and Dad.
The pastor preached a simple sermon based on John Three-sixteen,
That would have stirred the soul of a reigning king or queen!
I left that modest but sacred place with renewed hope in my heart,
Inspired by those timeless truths that old pastor did impart.
I've heard profound oratory in majestic cathedrals o'er this sphere,
But never a more soul-searching sermon will I ever hear,
Than from that humble pastor imparting that message of old,
For the ears and souls of his faithful, God-fearing fold.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
It was from the roadside,
All crushed with battered wing,
That they retrieved that injured bird
Which could no longer sing.
All limp without a spark of life
No brightness in her eye,
The very life light drained away
They feared that she would die.
That pretty bird had not a prayer
Was all that could be said,
By those who saw her frail form,
She surely must be dead.
But soft within her battered chest
The wounded heart still fluttered
And from the souls of those who saw
A mercy prayer was uttered.
The uttering grew, it gathered strength
It echoed up to heaven
And God who knows and sees all things
Smiled on this life He’d given.
It seemed some task lay incomplete
A song remained unsung,
And deep within the spirit moved;
The healing had begun.
All of those who ministered
Who carefully made repairs,
The heart-struck congregation
Who offered up their prayers,
Were astonished at the blessing
As life returned once more,
Determined to praise God anew
More fervent than before.
For it was God preserved her
That she might sing again,
To lift her voice in chorus
To echo the amen.
No other explanation
Can possibly be made
Now we see His purpose in
The life for which we prayed.
YOUR KISS FROM HEAVEN
You sent Your kiss from heaven
He was your only begotten Son
We call Him the Messiah
He is the only one
He ministered to the multitudes
Healing the sick and raising the dead
Religious leaders developed an attitude
Crucify Him, they said
On Calvary's hill outside the city
They cruelly nailed Him to a cross
They showed not the least bit of pity
For our sins, He paid the cost
On the third day He arose from the grave
Spent forty days with friends and kin
Then one day, His blessing He gave
He ascended to Heaven and will come again
So thank You, Father, for Your Son
The kiss from heaven to behold
We will wait for His return
When the clouds roll back like a scroll
Curtis Moorman
26 August 2013
What can I say?...
A poem... Some words... more than statements I desire
Like a longing of something you don't even know
Having a feeling of hunger but not for what is not food
The feeling of young lovers saying a goodbye they never meant to bid.
A wish of a day that meant so much to our hearts!
What can I say?... I guess if I may ask...
what can you expect as the candid guesses of a novice poet?
I'm trying my best although trying might not be too impressive on a day of birth as time with eternity!
A flying kite my dear is without season!
A never ending excellent soars without fears
A best companion you are without a debt of love
A never leaving Soul in a barren friendship until it lives and bears fruit
What can I say?...
She is nice, neat and needful
A worshiper who became Worship through worshipping
A minister who ministered to many to become a ministry to God
A birthday wish... a song... a prayer... a heart... to Christ... her sacrifice...her day to be
celebrate with passion
I know what to say, not with words but with a heart
Happy birthday my dear!
Behold The Lamb
“The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, "Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” Jn 1:29 NIV
Behold the Lamb of God
Which takes away all sin
So that a world full of souls
Has a chance not to die but win
From the manger to Calvary
He followed a path of self-denial
To minister to many unfortunates
Before His death and trial
Behold the Lamb of God
A ransom for us all
Self put to one side
That we might rise and not fall
He ministered to the needy
Sin-wracked soul
Miracle healings prevailed
Lives restored, made fully whole
Behold the Lamb of God
God’s plan for redemption
Focused around His son
And His incredible incarnation
We are asked to minister to others
Follow Christ’s example
Put self aside
A spirit-filled sample
May the world see Christ
Living through us
As we take up the work of angels
A responsibility so wondrous
Behold the Lamb of God
His mercy and grace
Until we finally see Him
Face to face.
Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2007-2012
www.maureenlefanue.com
Betrayed
There is no greater shock when you discover
one whom you trusted has stabbed you secretly in the back,
no not necessarily with a physical blade
but the pain of it is just as real even though your blood it did lack.
Have you ever felt that cold blade of steel
as it pierces your unsuspecting heart from within,
usually , it is a friend or loved one of your who curses the day you were born and treats you like you were as ugly as sin.
How Jesus must have wept even though
from the start He knew who Judas was,
a liar and a thief, his heart was set to deliver to His executioners
this Precious Lamb of God from above.
Even I, myself, have ministered and prayed for such a one
only to have them turn their back on me and lie,
speaking half truths to others that I was to have spoken
until I had whispered to my Father, “Oh, Lord, just let me die”.
But then imagine, our Christ Jesus the perfect, sinless,
Son of Almighty God, sent here to die in our place,
to have one of His twelve disciples as it were
to spit in His beautiful face.
Betrayed, such a horrible thought yet most of us
proudly think, “why, I would never do that”,
but have you ever denied knowing the Lord by your words or your actions
do people know what level your faith in Him is at?
Stop at this very moment and take stock
of how you are living your life,
and if you cannot say with clear conscience I’ve not betrayed Him then ask Him to wash away every sin, for only then you’ll be ready when you die.
Written by: Marilyn Jennings
When King David was old they covered him in clothes, but he got no heat,
So they sought for him a pretty girl who was innocent and sweet.
Let her stand before you lord and in your bosom nestle,
We think that it might warm you up if you should start to wrestle.
So they tacked up signs all through the land and put an ad in the paper,
“Wanted one beautiful girl to sleep with the king;” it really was a caper.
One day Abishag the Shunammite came to interview for the position,
They could see that she was qualified there was no need for an inquisition.
For Abishag was a beauty rare with charms displayed in generous proportions,
And was so flexible that she could warm a king with several notable contortions.
There was a time in King David’s life when this would run into trouble deep,
But he was now way too old and he just wanted to get some sleep.
What if this would have remained the accepted way to beat the winter chills,
I can tell you one thing for sure; no one would have invented sleeping pills.
And even though it’s in the Bible it won’t ever be a part of my life,
I don’t think that I’d be able to talk fast enough to ever convince my wife.
The First Book of Kings - Chapter 1
1:1Now king David was old and stricken in years; and they covered him with clothes, but he got no heat. 1:2Therefore his servants said to him, Let there be sought for my lord the king a young virgin: and let her stand before the king, and cherish him; and let her lie in your bosom, that my lord the king may keep warm. 1:3So they sought for a beautiful young lady throughout all the borders of Israel, and found Abishag the Shunammite, and brought her to the king. 1:4The young lady was very beautiful; and she cherished the king, and ministered to him; but the king didn't know her intimately.
Betrayed
There is no greater shock when you discover
one whom you trusted has stabbed you secretly in the back,
No not necessarily with a physical blade
but the pain of it is just as real even though your blood it did lack.
Have you ever felt that cold blade of steel
as it pierces your unsuspecting heart from within,
Usually , it is a friend or loved one of your who curses the day you were born
and treats you like you were as ugly as sin.
How Jesus must have wept even though
from the start He knew who Judas was,
a liar and a thief, his heart was set to deliver to His executioners
this Precious Lamb of God from above.
Even I, myself, have ministered and prayed for such a one
only to have them turn their back on me and lie,
speaking half truths to others that I was to have spoken
until I had whispered to my Father, “Oh, Lord, just let me die”.
But then imagine, our Christ Jesus the perfect, sinless,
Son of Almighty God, sent here to die in our place,
to have one of His twelve disciples as it were
to spit in His beautiful face.
Betrayed, such a horrible thought yet most of us
proudly think, “why, I would never do that”,
but have you ever denied knowing the Lord by your words or your actions
do people know what level your faith in Him is at?
Stop at this very moment and take stock
of how you are living your life,
and if you cannot say with clear conscience I’ve not betrayed Him
then ask Him to wash away every sin, for only then you’ll be ready when you die.
Written by: Marilyn Jennings
Hungry in all direction's
Hence this Redemption is
Here for you,
In the achievement
Of the
Magnitude of His blessings'
Ministered through
And threw
Through life He gives'
Abundantly and He finally
Calls' you home
For the Holy City is sacred
And you are His first born
Gary Fields
Poet Author
"With songs of sweetest praise",
I'm singing of God's grace,
that's what I'm 'called' to do;
He's been gracious enough
in this life that's been tough,
and giv'n me strength anew.
In the Bible, she's known
for her services own
to Jesus Christ, her Lord;
And after He was slain,
of His rising again,
she gladly spread the word.
Thus, she had ministered,
talked of Jesus, who stirred
her heart with Divine Love;
Now, I'm testifying
of His mystifying
gracious mercy thereof.
The meaning of my name,
and John's exactly same,
(mentioned in the fourth line);
Thus far, it has applied
and it will till I die,
My name my life defines.
Rhyme scheme: aabccb
6 syllables per line
01/17/17
Holier than thou
Not giv’n to pray, they were grey monks
‘Mid the holy band, ole’ Father John
Who was a gansta and wanksta,
Held command with some merry wives
That were healed of un-upright-nesses
Of them was Johanna selle her belle chose
And walke as fresh as is a red rose.
Many ministered unto him their substance.
Such was then pious lusty man of this crowd
This monk possess’d such wond’rous pow’r
To rub out the sin that Satan chalk’d upon
And gave fresh license to start afresh.
Near, in a farm house liv’d this gay dame
Quite clever in throwing a spanner in works
Father John sought the cell ev’ry week
Once a thump at the door, the husband came
Who was dodgy and a nutter
Punished the father with his thick stick.
Till he confessed "no he’d play the priest".
+++
August 24, 2014
Form: Free Verse
A gardener, I became by chance
a purposeful man with detailed plans
With a thought for each exigency
and a strategy for each contingency
I organized and theorized
I categorized, I normalized
I estimated and resized
and finally, I stabilized
I did this from a calm perspective
all done with the express objective
to prepare a comprehensive list
for mitigating potential risks
I worked, I worried,
I watched in horror
as my garden finally failed to bloom
Where did I fall? Which step was missed?
What miscalculation wrought this doom?
I sat in thought
(and deep in shame)
that what I'd wrought
had somehow failed
What was the task I had not caught?
(Or, was there something else to blame?)
Gantt chart, always at the ready
I began again, to make a plan
Pen in hand, as ever steady
a logical, beast; a thinking man
No change; no matter what I tried
the garden was again in ruins
at wit's end then, I simply sighed
and whistled doleful, mournful tunes
But then, a sunbeam warmly shone
upon my face, right through the pane
as I looked, I saw the rain had gone
that was the point, that I grew sane
I ministered lovingly to my plot
with patience and humility
gratefully accepting what I got
and forgetting old futility
No more planning, no more flailing
I saw the sun and rain as friends
Loving both despite their failings
and thankful for what each one lends
I watched in peace my garden grow
my focus reduced to just a glance,
indebted for what I'd come to know
that all things truly come by chance