Body, who sees itself
A slave, are you
Therefore apt to brush aside
Life, that demeans.
But not this; for the soul
A fair prince is.
Too much beneath its contempt!
Fires star-filled dreams.
Through every valley, Jesus stays my guide,
A gentle hand to help when paths are steep.
His voice, so soft, brings peace I cannot hide.
When fears arise and shake me deep inside,
His love restores the strength I long to keep.
Through every valley, Jesus stays my guide.
Each tear I shed, He’s there to brush aside,
And leads me on when I am lost in grief.
His voice, so soft, brings peace I cannot hide.
The cross reminds me why He lived and died—
A gift of grace beyond my mind’s belief.
Through every valley, Jesus stays my guide,
His voice, so soft, brings peace I cannot hide.
Once in a while I'll hear a voice or see a smile,
A glimpse of hand will brush aside a strand of hair,
And for just a moment I'll be there
With you again in Paris.
The midnight walks along the Seine,
The quiet talks in quaint cafes,
I close my eyes and hear you say, "Je t'aime",
And for just a moment there I am
With you back then in Paris.
So young, so gay, how could we know love fades away,
The flame will die when time and distance lie between?
At times I wonder, though, what might have been,
When I think of you and Paris.
"Your Way, Your Journey"
The door to tomorrow,
Opens in the shadows of today,
So brush aside the path of sorrow,
And make your own way,
To achieve your dreams.
Stop thinking too much,
And start your new day,
Make your every morning,
Like a sun shines every day.
You are not alone in your new chapter of your journey,
Because you are with yourself,
Which matters more than anything else in your life.
And Make your hope stronger day by day,
Which gives you a strength in a best way.
So let's get started your new journey,
With full of enthusiasm and in a strong way.
'Twas after a frosty night,
I caught a glimpse of sunlight,
Sparkling on a spider web,
Miracle, enough said,
Patterns so intricate,
Did not brush aside, delicate,
Yes, 'twas after a frosty night,
Spied a web of sheer delight!
A pink red sun hovers above my bed
Beneath the sea I ride my horse aloft
With streaming mane through currents swirling path
To see his majesties evening show
Every day I wonder how he thrills my soul
He mixes up his paints and flings his brush aside
Against the sun to spill some yellow glow
Then blue strokes turn satin sky purple soft
Jagged mountain rises up, falls back to the sea
And last the waves are strewn above the shore
Bougainvillea
15 April 2019
I still remember the pink hue of the
bougainvillea flowers just outside my window
greeting me, each morning as I brush aside the curtains
and let the glorious rays of sun paint my room
in a streak of golden yellow.
Like pieces of art, little and precise
simple yet meaningful, I admire those
soft, blushing petals.
These long vines and thorns lining
in natural perfection its leaves and flowers, teach me
that hidden in my failures and obstacles
I may find beauty and glory, and I may start anew
with my new-found inspiration from these
works of untouched and
untouchable art,
for which I find myself
eternally grateful.
Woven in a lava oven and driven into the pit of despondency
Where light at the end of a tunnel dims
Parents explode and implode as darkness swamps ascendancy
Leading parents to wonder if their children curse their dreams.
Challenges in meninges and syringes singe petrified parents
Whose aspirations and predictions that wayward children tear
Their world asunder in the midst of invectives, calumnies and taunts
Drive detractors to wonder why pusillanimous parents children bear.
Influenced, incensed and unbalanced in a variety of ways
Children’s personalities somersault and assault
Parents aspirations and predilections switching off rays
Teeming with hope in a satire scope to brush aside meek manners taught.
A shaft of light sometimes in parents’ shivering shrouds shines through
As parents from their uncomfortable cocoons debunk secrecy
In conversations with sent strangers to achieve a breakthrough
That restores hope, clarity and on their torture tom-tom sprinkles mercy.
giants through the hour glass
stride leviathan
upon the hissing seeds of mountains
curl toes, summer freed,
about the pillars of the world
whose molten bloom
faded millennia ago
and crumbled down to dust.
upon these ancient shores
ponder as you brush aside
these clinging crumbs of mighty crags
once, a time ago
we were almost dust
and they were giants.
Flick of a moment and the dark is already there,
In the mind, the paranoid self has started to stare,
When hallucinations are seeming no lesser than reality,
I wish let it at least not be the veracious voice of such brutality.
I know not what is inside,
Though I wish to brush aside,
In vain I try to calm the forces,
To realize I am unable to hold my horses.
Darkness outside makes no difference,
For the blind, darkness inside is scarier,
At this moment helped my reverence,
For I have you who won't let it become drearier.
All I say is thanks for being there my savior !!
When England’s fairest rose
strained to find a light
neath the monarchy’s shadows,
such passion did she incite.
Many are the years since
Lady Diana Spencer
met and married her prince,
believing that he loved her.
Unrequited affection
she tried to brush aside.
Poised was her reflection;
tears she sought to hide.
Princess Di’s quest for love
drew her to the masses,
who adored this precious dove,
more fragile than glass is.
A candle caught by harsh wind,
extinguished far too young,
left the monarchy chagrined;
her popularity stung.
In death as she was in life,
she’s treasured in people’s hearts,
for kindness is always rife
in the love a People’s Princess imparts.
*Inspired by Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind,” which he performed at Diana’s funeral.
Time - just a measure...!
Days and nights - in the realm of men,
are barriers for time as life in itself churn!
Week, month and year in measure they turn;
as it slips under the feet - for more we yearn!
From stage to stage, calculations galore!
journey - the duration, we attempt to explore!
Game the mind plays - semblance of control,
time drops an axe, hindered is our stroll!
Beyond the mind and word's confines,
'That' ubiquitous presence the one that defines!
Discriminating wisdom is all you need to pierce,
to tread the path that was taken by seers!
Glimpse of it is all one needs, to set aside the deeds,
and to brush aside all that impedes!
To take a plunge into everlasting bliss,
and be absorbed in oneness to give time 'a miss'!
I see the Night has come not yet
Breathe in the stars of our evening
Tomorrow Aurora will spread
And wake you up with light of being.
She'll brush aside the dream from eyes
She will flare up on cheeks of Glory
The thousands swords gift brilliant glance
to one who's getting sleep so jolly.
Life is never easy,
You knew that from the Start
But don't let that dissuade you
Or even break your heart.
Bad times will impede you
And sometimes you get down,
They'll try to take you over
But you'll always cope somehow.
You decide your future,
You can set your course.
Just choose your destination,
Get rid of all remorse.
Don't dwell on the "tomorrows"
Or the pain that's in your past.
You're strong and you are thoughtful,
So go and show the mass!
Yes their will be heartache,
Grief and dripping eyes
But you yourself can dry them,
So gently brush aside.
Life was meant for living,
Thiers beauty in that thought.
So stop and take a moment
And take in all it's taught.
When you see thing's clearly,
When all I s said and done.
You will see the beauty
And gaze up at the sun.
Sometimes you may falter,
Decide you've done your best
But don't give up my darling,
It's merely just a test.
These people who do love you,
Shall and always will
But to love yourself regardless,
Takes a lot of will.
I know your surely able,
For you are like a star,
You shine within the darkness
And that's just who you are!
Green door healing
The green door beckons in the gloom,
old and battered, inside soon,
I brush aside the cobwebs grim,
and opening I wander in ,
into the darkened room,
big old yellow candle flutters,
casting amber light like butter,
as I look about the room,
my lady of the Misel-toe is there,
feathers scattered everywhere,
sorrowful in need of care,
vibrations needed soon.
Reaching forth in astral svelte,
my hands do hold her liver melt,
the unwanted parts consume,
begone black pearl from the loom,
engorge from the tree of health,
faith healer on this dwelt,
liver shining like the moon,
great faith can heal the self,
the poet knows the tune.
Don Johnson
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