A voiceless sigh of longing forsook her lips
as she watched the raindrops strike the windowpane
following the downward journey of the drips.
Winter’s white carapace of snow now long lost
to fresh springtimes youthful bluster, and the rain;
both seasons, resemblant to old lovers crossed.
The summer sunshine seems yet so far away,
chance again for love to play its soft refrain;
now, she sits, last year's long-faded, aged bouquet.
A gentle breath on glass, finger tracing heart;
a sobbing, heaving breast still so full of pain
as rain slow erased her fragile work of art.
Aurora: "the rest of the summer, its blank night sky, that twinkles softly with graceful tries to blend the softness of the night with deepening lulls that musically alight."
Lucifer: "I vaingloriously instate another well of darkness upon the firmament escape, little doves and coy wolves, deities like us must press our luck."
Uraeal: "Insipid, really."
Kate: "The longest field in this place of woe should call the calling pigeon and pigeonhole our goals."
RK: "Oui Oui these said it was best, I'd look to a new heaven but havens come rent."
arophc varuag: "I came for lit happenings I see now today, the main little droves have gone to back horseplay."
PW1: *Realizes he is needed near the well, but turns for a morsel of the usual melody*
The forbidden one: *Catches up with the gamblers who have gambled with the day*
Zeus: "I venture forsook thee as thy often finds the book is readied its spine in its prime."
Helel: "Only the few have found such fortunes like a cookie from China that has yet to be opened."
DR Dragon: "For half of this time, I shan't read a thing that isn't the bribe."
---End of act III---
All of the apostles forsook him.
Peter denied him.
I betrayed him.
Jesus never stopped loving us.
I gave him a kiss of death.
He still called me friend.
Peter was later convicted
And cried bitter tears.
He returned to his Lord.
I acknowledged my wrong,
But refused to live with myself.
Peter received God's forgiveness.
His name is loved by thousands.
I never sought God's forgiveness.
Do you know any who have my name?
The Lesser Matter
There was a human race to save,
Not one race or creed,
For all souls, it was for all,
did our Savior bleed.
For the God of all time and eternity,
Saw the greatest plight,
For our souls, His only cause,
He chose to fight.
Enslavements, genocides, and murders,
for injustices of all kind,
For every cause and case foreseen,
had you and I in mind.
He forsook the royalty of His glory,
to be enclosed in flesh and skin,
Conquered sin and death in the likeness of sinful flesh,
For us to win!
For the radical cause we lift our voices
and fists the same.
Lay down your weapons, for the sake of Christ, in Jesus' name!
For Him, turn neither left or right, to choose a side,
Choose the Lord of Host Most High,
His grace applied.
What does it matter to hate and fight,
mere men are scorned or applaused,
When for the preaching of the gospel of Jesus Christ, is the greatest cause.
Many have forsaken the spiritual battle,
to choose the latter,
to fight, live and even die, for the lesser matter.
That you would pick a fight for part than all of humanity,
A greater weight is more at stake for eternity.
The feast, it happened, of Saints Peter and Paul.
I’d called in early for a final look
at Saint Teresa in her cosy nook
before the tourists made a shopping mall
of this delightful church. My plans on stall
(for Mass was under way), I soon forsook
my statue contemplation, since the hook
the sermon dangled caught me in its thrall.
Those two great saints of Roman pedigree
had done their time in prison, unlike us,
but (said the priest) our new captivity
is of our own creation – reasoned, thus:
“The Prison of the Ego”. Yes, that’s me.
To add one word would be superfluous.
Blessed be the Lord God Almighty,
Who delivereth His generals from the snares of the enemy.
In their great fall, He forsook them not,
But upheld them with His hand and called them once more.
He is the Shepherd who leaves not His own,
The Watchman who allows no harm to overtake His chosen.
Blessed be His Word;
Wise are all His precepts.
O marvelous King, full of mercy and power,
Thou rememberest the fallen and restorest the righteous.
For though the righteous fall, yet shall they rise again,
Because Thy love endureth forever.
Thank Thee, O Lord, for Thy everlasting kindness.
All glory be unto Thee
Who was, and is to come.
Amen.
Descending s p l a s h infuses brook.
Falling from on high, cockcrow skies.
E a r l y risers, on boat, take l o o k.
O bittersweet g r a c e …angels’ sighs.
P a i n t e d hues, (God never forsook
the human race) the bright dawn highs.
Passionate-red, the orb’s e y e wise.
Even if man’s blind, still God dyes
Yellow-orange, sunny s u n r i s e.
Names carved deep,
in marble stones, keep
memories fast asleep,
until loved ones weep.
Mementos kept in drawls,
photos displayed in halls,
precious things hung on walls,
oft echo memory recalls.
One is living, one is dead.
Why not remember a thread,
that is ongoing, instead
of annual tributes, planned ahead?
A grave grows old,
neglected in the cold.
It keeps the passed on hold,
when keepsakes, instead, evolve.
Each touch of them, each look,
is like reading a book,
over again, lest you mistook
a detail, or what you forsook.
So I leave the cemetery alone,
in its seldom visited zone.
Instead I focus on being re-shown,
the tapestry of echoes hand-sewn.
“Memories come forth to say...
we are with you to stay.”
__by Poet
This was the passageway she took
beneath the limbs of maple trees;
to this day still, I turn and look
and feel her joy to help and please.
I watched her walk across the grass;
this was the passageway she took.
With all the love she could amass
she'd come out from the shaded nook.
For from her home to mine partook
to visit for a while and stay.
This was the passageway she took;
still see her there as branches sway.
Yes, there she was, my mother dear;
I miss those visits- long-forsook.
Above, she keeps my vision clear;
this was the passageway she took.
The feast, it happened, of Saints Peter and Paul.
I’d called in early, for a final look
at Saint Teresa in her cosy nook,
before the tourists made a shopping mall
of this delightful church. My plans on stall
(for Mass was under way), I soon forsook
my statue contemplation, since the hook
the sermon dangled caught me in its thrall.
Those two great saints of Roman pedigree
had done their time in prison, unlike us,
but (said the priest) our new captivity
is of our own creation – reasoned, thus:
“The Prison of the Ego”. Yes, that’s me.
To add one word would be superfluous.
You shirk the weight of parenthood's call,
leaving your children to wither, unfed.
Are you a father, or mere specter of one?
A mother, or just a shadow that's gone?
While others nurture, educate, and guide,
you abandon your own to fate's tide.
Your concern lies with outsiders, it seems,
while your kin suffer, and your legacy beams.
The children you forsook, the partner you left,
will rise to greatness, despite the neglect.
Will you claim pride in their future fame?
Seek praise for years of absence, and hollow claims?
Awaken to your duties, and seize the day,
for the future beckons, and will not stray.
Peer at your reflection, see with their eyes,
the bloom of roses in soft, downy cheek.
Rigid, cold looking glass, no warmth to seek.
All life must wither and the moon must rise.
Each believes they hold to the pastel posy.
Change begins with frigid wind of slate gray.
Turn then, to me, see your soul's eternal day.
I, blind to time see you forever rosy.
In beauty you bask in each longing look.
Though your surrounded, each eye is your own.
Clouds of admiration but ever alone.
When night falls, I'll be the sun you forsook.
All Wrong
Perhaps you are all wrong,
Chanting a cheap imitation song,
Trying to peer-pressure-belong.
It’s the devils-sweet-song,
But eternity is hellishly long.
Think! Don’t just go along.
Don’t let deception be your swan song.
Your hot-new-home is not a week long.
Words of heavenly wisdom have a Shepherd’s hook.
Christ’s burden is light; heavy is the profound book.
It would be experientially sad to find you forsook
The greatest gift. Why not take a Living Water-look.
Step over the line of faith; have a changed outlook.
THEN
I was
carefree, and
I wished to live
forever, and yet
always inside me was
the knowledge that I would grow
by learning more and taking on
new responsibilities. Trials
taught me that nothing in life is certain.
I swam life’s flow in each new wave that came-
as a wife, mother, teacher and friend.
Some childhood beliefs I forsook.
I hope I’ve evolved although
in many ways I’ve stayed
the same. However,
I think I could
accept death
with grace
NOW
Why NOT me?
In the shadow of the womb I lay.
Tiny and helpless, not yet on display.
Unknown to the world, silently I grow;
A life in waiting, with oh, so much to show.
But fate decides, with a cruel twist;
My future uncertain, in this rollercoster abyss,
Cast aside, before I can even breathe;
My tiny heart is draining, unable to seethe.
Do they know my pain, my silent cries;
As they take away my one chance to rise?
In the folly of their choice I was made.
A lost soul, not wanted, trapped in the depths of their parade.
Unseen, unheard, my existence denied.
My potential extinguished, as they decide.
But in the shifting dance of life and death,
I'll remain just a whisper, a forgotten breath.
For those who choose to overlook,
The beauty in me, the life they forsook;
Remember this in the depths of your heart,
I was here, I did exist, I was a part.
Now I’m in the arms of the one who never cast away,
Where I know I can sleep peacefully, and safely lay.
For even if no one on the earth will take a gift from the creator,
I’ll forever accept him as my life giving savior!
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