She blooms alone where silence holds the sky,
A tender grace no daring soul has known.
Her gaze is soft, her head is held so high—
A queen within a quiet world, enthroned.
No boastful light, no cry for passing praise,
She walks beneath the noise, untouched, serene.
Her modest charm outshines the sun’s bold rays,
Yet fear keeps hearts from where her steps have been.
They see her not—the ones who look in fear,
For depth and calm are threats to shallow minds.
Unloved, not for her lack, but crystal-clear
Strength wrapped in grace the insecure won’t find.
She is a bloom the world may not deserve,
Yet still she stands, with silence as her nerve.
It’s a privilege to come before Heavens King.
He’s enthroned on high where Angels sing.
Those gone on before us, the truth they now know.
The answers to the question. Where do the bad go?
Open my eyes Lord Jesus so your truths I can see.
I desire to know what you have destined me to be.
Whatever you have planned Lord, I am willing to do.
If I should trust anyone, it should only be you.
When I look at the wonders made from your hands.
I realize it’s foolish trusting a woman or a man.
Seeking You in solitude your presence I feel.
Your glory overwhelms me, so sweet and it's real.
No drug, alcohol or sex, beats moments like this.
Being in your presence, can be described only as bliss!
I’m hooked and love you Father, just can’t get enough.
At your feet I run to, whenever times get tough.
I want to share this with my children and my grands!.
Trust God, read His word and you will understand.
How do you stitch a shattered soul mirrored in cracked reflections?
Friends arrive too late, armed with needles,
once the bleeding has stilled,
sewing memories into a cloth of loss—
stitched of sorrow, wearing grief's heavy gold,
as if it were a crown above the stillness of the dead—
enthroned in hollow solitude.
Thoughts twist like barbed wire,
fences no soul dares to breach;
pull too hard, and silence unravels,
screaming into the void,
a cacophony of isolation dances in shadows.
Death tugs at these frayed seams,
slowly unspooling me—
thread by thread, each strand a whisper
of what once was, every knot a reminder
of the horror nestled within.
Oh the power of the narcissistic
would be king enthroned,
crowned not with wisdom,
but with arrogance,
delusion and nihilism.
The crowd waits on his every word
which has the power
to flip the world order
from boom to flop
from soar to bust
to tip the seesaw
to flip-flop panic.
Why should one person,
posting his own thoughts social
in the middle of the night
have the power to scare
the butterfly, making it
flap its wings,
triggering the accord
to tip off the cliff
Into chaos.
Come
Ye all
I must feed
My gall with bile
As a narcissist
Enthroned as populist
To efface you in your face
Constantly relentlessly there
Everywhere and wherever you look
With pills to relieve your suffering ills
With no jobs or money to pay the bills
With calls that you will be better soon
Despite inflation price rises
Despite the job cut losses
Despite hurting our friends
Which you label worse
Than enemies
You befriend
For deals
Done
As an emerald, ruby, and sapphire,
You are most meticulously adorned.
Beyond boundless sacred zeniths higher
With Him, you are gloriously enthroned.
You, in His sight, are a mystic treasure.
You're more precious than the most precious gem.
His love for you is beyond all measure.
Aren't you above the creational helm?
There's merged in you His image and likeness.
It's this that makes you a unique jewel.
You're made to partake in His holiness.
In Him, like pure pearl in a shell, you dwell.
poetry, fleeting verses
first they arrive and enchant
then they settle and leave
if they are not enthroned
I pray your plan for my life comes to fruition,
I trust in you always have and always will.
Remove the fear and anxiety that overwhelm me,
Fill me with a spirit of peace, New Shalom.
Remove the weight I feel on my shoulders,
I’m not alone keep me from depending on myself.
I’m not strong enough to be independent,
Everyone at one point was dependent.
Help me to trust those around me, that’s family.
Family is neither a burden nor a crutch.
When tempted to throw the towel and give up,
It’s the support system that holds me up,
.
Lord have your way in my life, heart and mind.
Be forever glorified and enthroned,
Let your will and plan be done in my life.
I pray for a revelation of your plan in my life.
Behold, My King.
He was standing before the throne.
He considered the one who knew of Him;
Why is my servant being stoned?
He had already told them that his kingdom would come.
They even knew it was in their generation;
Why was he not enthroned already?
Here comes another, standing before his servant.
Stephen, Stephen, Stephen!
The first Martyr.
Should he not suffer, just like the first martyr?
He never rested, but gave the message of the kingdom.
Here comes another!
Why was no one found to unseal the seven seals?
Where was my LORD, if not in the Holy of Holies?
Is he not on His throne already?
Behold the Lamb standing before the throne.
Was he not the one holding the scroll?
Alas, the Seven seals are unsealed.
Where is my king, if not on his throne already?
Behold the Lamb in the midst of the throne.
Behold, My King.
You've read it correctly,
that's what the directions said directly
but
it's not some innate random homogeneous gift
that encourages and displays these internal poetic rifts,
we are somehow blessed,
betrayed, besieged, bestowed, beleaguered and bemoaned
by words, phrases, unmatched rhymed teasers enthroned
upon some grandiose display of mismatched garble
a picture, an image, a brain's ensemble, quite remarkable,
the integral, seamless agreed-upon selection
of who or what could be prisoner to our dissection,
there within the confines of heart, body, and mind
lay hidden pseudo images soft, hard, vile, and kind,
therein those coherent enigmatic systemic wholes
buried, shaped, unseen, rhythmic whispers of our souls,
the center of our individual, molded, subservient whole.
In the visage of gentle pallor, they sit enthroned,
Guardians of depth, in blue-grey tones adorned.
A tapestry of life, in twin orbs, is shown,
Mirrors to the world, in curiosity born.
Not just the hue, but the stories they hold,
Of love's soft whisper, of sorrows untold.
In silent vigil, they perceive the bold
Tales of the heart, as life's drama unfolds.
With every glance, a universe expands,
Embracing loved ones with invisible hands.
In their gaze, a tender vigilance stands,
A testament to where true beauty lands.
Yet, amidst this splendor, a shadow creeps,
As sight falters and the dark spots leap.
A grotesque dance, where light slowly seeps,
But still, they watch, they guard, they keep.
For even as the clarity may wane,
The soul's windows endure, through the pain.
In every look, love remains the same,
Eyes that know, eyes that love, eyes that reign.
*I wrote this poem on April 14, 2024, as a poetry challenge. The prompt was “Write an ode to your favorite body part.”
The Devil replace
The Fear of God and enthroned
Guilt of human fear.
draped in milky white
of soft dazzling silk, land lies~
winter queen enthroned.
What were you expecting
Upon my sudden return
The sky to split open
The mountains to move
Or maybe a rescue mission
Where pride is enthroned as
....good, BENEVOLENT, a rewarder of the diligent seeker
What was I expecting
On my sudden return
A parade of the deceived
Announcing my TRUTH
Or maybe a public apology
Where pride is humbled as
...forgiven, accepted, deeply LOVED
Since time is gone
Eternity is ever yielding
No matter can follow LOVE
Into OAKLAND, where
TRUTH in WORD stands
Declaring HISglory
...and hisSTORY is void, no relevant meaning, vapor in the wind
Written by Trudy Schrader on 12-11-2023
“I want to be alone… with someone else who wants to be alone.” – Dimitri Zaik
I was born an introvert,
misplaced in an extroverted garden.
Mother's cocoon,
which once kept me safe and warm,
now left me exposed to
green-eyed predators,
who stole my fluorescent fragility.
Is it any wonder that in adolescence,
my heart resembles red glass,
which can shatter at the slightest betrayal,
bleeding in crushing, harlequin drops.
In between the silence of heartbeats,
there was a demonic darkness,
plaguing the scent of my honeysuckle aura—
making me feel an imperfection of ugliness.
Until a vision of a celestial silhouette,
appeared in evergreen ethereal tones.
His smile glistened like tender
pearls of white, seducing
my senses speechless.
I am like a drop of rain upon
his petals of orchid glory.
I know there will be monsoon seasons,
erratic elements harassing my presence,
among his poetic prestige,
yet, I yearn to be
the one,
who is forever enthroned by
his emerald eminence.
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