Do Te La So Fa Me Re Do.
Peter's notes go downwards:
it's Do to Do
to rhyme with so-and-so.
It's door to door
just five small minutes
from my abode I go
across the way
to reach the church
that is St Peter's.
We hear that Do to Do
descend as now we go
from door to door, just so.
This so-and-so
will make his way
towards those bells that call us
down and down
from door to door
from Do to Do.
Peter is there.
He wears eight rings
as sonorous sounds.
They take me so,
from Do to Do:
Do Te La So Fa Me Re Do.
(written 16 Sep 2026)
"Why do you rebel?"
Asked the artist of the bruise
"Your head is sick, your heart faint
Your skin is slick with wounds"
Yet in the same breath
"I do not delight in lambs' blood"
Yet he likens kin to lambs
And killed both in the flood
But "thou shalt not kill"
Declares he who killed the most
"My sword devours 'til sated"
Saith the Lord of Hosts
"For I am sorry
About all of your punishments"
There's no forgiveness in me
My lord, I'm far beyond spent
Oh, the Vespers!
The day is coming to a close.
And the Scriptures!
Can words our sins dispose?
And the Evening,
With my head so lowly bowed.
Those Bible Proverbs.
Will they clear away the cloud?
I've been knocking all night long,
But the Church's door is closed.
I look through a crystal window.
I see the followers reposed.
I knock twice on the door,
Hoping for an invitation.
I only hear voices singing-
Singing "Jesus is Salvation".
I am knocking.
Please let a sinner in.
I knock louder,
And start prayful meditation.
The door opens,
But I see no people there.
Only a Bible on a pulpit
And the message becomes clear.
EXPECT LIGHTNING STRIKE
GOD TELLING TRUMP TAKE A HIKE
LEO HIM I LIKE
TRUMP NOT INTO POPE
THE FREAKING POPE TRUMP, YOU DOPE
CATHOLICS WILL COPE
The glowing day of green and gold
sliced through my windowpane,
drawing me out of my nest
and into its warmth.
The kids are asleep.
The husband is home.
It’s a morning all for me and God.
I walk the path—
the breeze massages my face,
the earth cradles my feet,
and the birds’ calls
steady my soul.
I hear You say my name.
I see Your love for me
written in the quiet slate of sky.
I send a letter back:
I love You too,
My Holy One.
Each one of us
is taken up to the devil’s hill,
where he lays a smorgasbord before us.
“What would you like,
my son,
my daughter?
Money?
Fame?
Power?
Control?
Sex?”
You start to walk away—
but fall
on your very next step.
“What’s the matter, my child?
No angels here to save you?”
He smiles.
“Come now—choose.
It’s easier this way.
No mountain to climb,
no blisters,
no scraped knees.
Just fun.
Excitement.
No rules.
Everything you’ve ever longed for.”
And if you’re not careful,
he’ll trap you—
wrap his offer in charm
and pleasure
until you spend a lifetime
untangling his grip.
So when the call comes
to climb the mountain,
ask:
Whose voice is this?
Whose plan is this path?
God does have a roadmap—
but He only reveals it
one step at a time.
He never promises
riches, fame, or ease—
but He does promise
love,
joy,
peace—
if not immediately,
then just beyond
the next door.
So take His hand.
Walk down the mountain.
He will steady your footing.
The scarlet rope from a window hung
was used to let the two spies down
from brothel built in city wall,
it rescued them from a close call.
A token of the covenant
between the spies and prostitute,
That scarlet rope made the house of sin
a refuge for dwellers within.
When Jericho’s walls were laid flat
And all within its walls were slain
the only ones spared within the town,
were in the house where the rope hung.
When death’s angel o’er Egypt passed
that dreadful night in Pharaoh’s land
The only ones whose lives were spared
were in houses where blood was smeared.
The blood of lambs sacrificed
pointed to Christ, the Lamb of God
whose blood was shed upon a cross
to save man from sin’s death and dross.
The scarlet rope from heaven hangs
from where the Son of God came down,
to bridge the gulf and smash the wall
which sin produced, through Adam’s fall.
But only those who claim Christ’s blood
as payment for a life of sin
will be spared from the fire of hell
the kind that on Gomorrah fell.
God works in whispers and slight nudges
Some choose to blast the music of the world
They drown Him out and claim He isn't there
They run away from Him tapping softly for attention
He follows
But not with screams and shouts and shoves
He doesn't work like that
If only we can learn to quiet our minds and lives to hear
His words of love and nudges reminding us of our path
He knocks on the door of our hearts
All we need to do is let Him in
Words, nudges, and knocks to remind us of our true home
Home with Him in eternal happiness
Eve saw the serpent eat the fruit
and through her sight, he found the route
to the recesses of her mind
then made her think he was so kind.
She heard one speak in tones so sweet
slick words that entered wisdom’s seat.
So, through the portal of the ears
she was suckered by Satan’s jeers.
Satan seeks access to our mind
His goal is to deceive and bind.
And when at last he gets his way
He treats us like lions treat prey.
Guard well the access to your mind
Let not allurements make you blind.
If you would make Jesus your Lord
Then you must sever Satan’s chords.
The doors you once opened to him
which made you subject to his whim
You now must close and bid him leave
If you to Christ desire to cleave.
Be mindful of the things you watch
The Devil seeks your soul to catch.
Through movies and music, he sets
His trusty traps and nifty nets.
To sight and sound, scent, touch, and taste
demon possession can be traced.
Once Satan gains access to the soul
He seeks his victims to control.
Satan seeks to steal, kill, and destroy,
To this end, he designs his ploys.
Jesus offers you, life and peace
He longs Satan’s chains to release.
Upon a throne of gilded lies,
Pride sits, with fire in its eyes.
A whispered voice, a velvet snare,
It lifts you high, then leaves you bare.
A mirror polished, sharp and clear,
Reflects the face we long to cheer.
But deeper still, behind the glass,
A shadow stirs where truths won’t pass.
It builds a tower to the sky,
Where humble hearts dare not apply.
With every stone of self-conceit,
The soul forgets it’s incomplete.
For Pride, a thief both sly and cold,
Takes love and leaves a heartless hold.
It blinds the wise, corrupts the kind,
And leaves the broken lost, confined.
Yet when the tower starts to fall,
And echoes shake its lofty wall,
The humbled heart, through dust and pain,
May rise to find itself again.
For Pride may claim a fleeting throne,
But grace is found in hearts unknown.
To bend, to bow, to see, to share—
In lowering self, we rise through care.
You keep searching for me,
On streets of hopelessness, endlessly.
Your eyes see through my life’s despair,
A silent witness to the burdens I bear.
Your heart longs for my return,
Oh Lord, your love forever burns.
Reach out your hands; don’t let me fall,
I hear your voice, your faithful call.
You keep searching, though I stray,
Your eyes watch through my coldest days.
Never resting, never dim,
Your light guides me back to Him.
Embrace me now, help me to stand,
Carry me gently in your hand.
Lead me, Lord, to your perfect way,
Forgive my sins—I’m here to stay.
You remind me of your faithfulness,
Oh Lord, your love is endless.
Reach out your hands; I hear your plea,
I’m coming home, please hold me.
You are so good, so wonderful,
Your love eternal, pure, and beautiful.
Your faithfulness never fades away—
Reach out your hands; I’ll follow, I’ll obey.
I’m coming back, with all my heart,
Lead me, Lord, to a brand-new start.
Your grace, your mercy, forever true,
Reach out your hands—I’m coming back to you.
I thought we all had the same goal
I thought the task was clear
now all I do is question
what im doing here
sides are clearly formed
but I refuse to pick a side
all of this back and forth
is making me lose my mind
There is still alot
that I do not know
but im pretty sure this
is not how its supposed to go
Most people are more concerned
with spilled tea on the floor
then the hurting people
that are walking out the door
I did not realize
there were politics at church
what ever happened
to just preaching the word
lights camera action
lets put on a show
it does not really matter
if we heal their soul
This just does not feel right
something here is wrong
and now i no longer
Wish to play along
Yesterday, I was talking to the church pews.
Asking them about the stories they hold
They told far and wide they heard thing.
That just can’t be told.
They told me the depths.
The truths that they hear.
The day that had to come
They say is almost here.
The church pews told me,
No matter what they say.
I have to carry on.
To continue on my way
Even as the night falls
The sky is always bright.
The church pew stories.
Stay safe with me tonight.
In this world so vast and great,
Mistakes are made, we know the fate.
But one thing we can hold so true,
Is that God's plan is always in view.
Every step we take, every breath we breathe,
Is guided by the Master's expertise.
The path we walk, though it may seem unsure,
Is paved by a love that's always pure.
The mountains high, the valleys low,
Each one in place to help us grow.
The challenges we face, the joys we find,
All a part of God's design.
For we are crafted in His very own image,
Shining stars in a vast cosmic village.
No mistake was ever made,
In the love of God we shall forever be swayed.
So trust in the journey, trust in the way,
Knowing that you are guided each day.
For God's perfect plan will always prevail,
And in His love, we'll never fail.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.