He created the heavens and earth
out of sheer joy in His own handiwork.
With loving compassion, He spoke
all into being. He saw that it was
beautiful.
One thing was missing, someone
to share it with Him.
He then created man and woman
and all was complete.
Just look around you
And you will see
God’s handiwork
Look at the sunset
Or beautiful mountain
Or how amazing a new born baby
Or look at how beautiful different animals are
Only the Creator could have designed it
The devil really has you deceived
Telling you there is no God.
Nature’s handiwork God designed
Showcasing wondrous color blends
Foliage of amber, crimson, brown
Radiates transformation grand.
Evoking awe for masterpiece
Nature’s handiwork God designed
Midst pathway carpeted with gold
Welcomes blessings* heaven bestows.
Assured with gracious beauty wealth
Exuding peace and bliss sublime
Nature’s handiwork God designed
Inspires hope kindling hearty mirth.
Faith soars toward fortitude height
Thanking* omnipotent Maker
Gripped by Autumn’s magnificence
Nature’s handiwork God designed.
*Ephesians 1:3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ.
August 24, 2022
Edited on November 4, 2025
As a hurting song is being sung,
At a white polo shirt is flung
What can have been a cow’s dung
And on same it foully clung
And on a nearby face hung;
All a hurried indiscreet challenge
By one refusing to change,
As though it is beyond his range,
The idea pointblank strange
Or one’s denial of a sweet orange!
At last, the fastest arrangement for a detergent,
Lest victim should arrange his brother sergeant…
“Once again, the quick-to-burst temper
Proving it can with a lot tamper.
Delicate round droplets on perky white daisies,
Rich verdant April grasses glowing like emeralds
Yellow slickers with matching hats and red rain boots,
World is alive, eager, enthusiastically wet and shiny.
A tiny rainbow with glimpses of pinks and yellows
Rain smiles at her handiwork, showing off spider web.
The Lord offered His wondrous love
Bringing forgiveness from above
I’m handpicked.
Upholding my faith’s fervent zeal
His truth-covenant shows great seal:
God’s handshake.
Saviour’s branch I am; He’s the vine
My heart accepts His work divine
as handmaid.*
Mighty sovereign of my soul
He leads toward triumphant goal
not offhand.
With Christ making my life blissful
I thank Him, being His grateful
handiwork.
*Luke 1:38 And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word…
May 13, 2020
5th place, "A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE no 1218" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/22/2023
God's, Handiwork
By: Tom Wright
Feb. 10, 1998
Beyond my wood lot filled,
with snow so deep it chilled.
I watched young mink at play,
Paying me no heed this day.
Fulfilling their place in life,
oblivious of man made strife.
Their not mine I can plainly see,
But on loan from, God, to me.
With a man sized urge to gloat,
the sun glistening off their coat.
Saying, God, how can this be?
That You painted this scene for me.
Frosted icicle ledges
Cold air surprises our noses
Hard diamond water forms ice
Asthmatics run for their inhalers
Dripping icicles forms well tipped arrows
Crystal spider webs of glass peeks from your windshield
Glistening blue-white quilt covers spring grasses
Evergreens wear their Snow hats and muffs proudly
Dainty snowflakes caught on tongues of children
Dainty perennials hide under their new heavy blankets,
Red hydrants turn into frosted candy-canes wearing white beanie.
Mystical magic surrounds Jack Frost’s handiwork.
Gay snowmen sports pink and green checked scarves,
stolen out of Mama’s closet.
Happy children, lying down in snow angel formation,
Older siblings, bribe younger sisters to stay home with hot chocolate while they go sledding.
Reluctantly take them with them, after their mothers discover their missing scarves.
Mothers stay home and enjoy hot chocolate.
Mystical magical winter.
It's God's Handiwork
Miracle every second
A newborn baby
The quilt upon my bed was stitched
By someone I don’t know.
My blue ceramic fish was formed,
Most likely, by a pro.
Some watercolors on my wall
Were painted by a friend
I met on a vacation
(Such good luck I’d recommend).
A wrought-iron scene, a stained-glass moon,
A mobile made of metal
All grace my home and help my mood
Improve to finer fettle.
I wonder if the artists think
About the crafts surrendered,
If it was worth the trade-off
For the compensation tendered.
I’d like to think they’re satisfied
That what they have created
Is there displayed in someone’s house,
Their talents celebrated.
As human beings, we are set a trust
Dominion over all such lesser things
Yet it's axiomatic that we turn to dust
The best of what our erudition brings
We take a fertile clay in hand to mold
The asseveration of our bright intents
To throw upon life's wheel and thus behold
The magic that our work and will relents
But much of what we strive for falls away
Our altruistic hopes and aims devoured
By all that glitters gold with glut and pay
The milk of our accomplishment so soured
Perhaps if we'd first taste that bitter cream
We'd shape a world more fit ... our childrens' dream.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Late April Standard Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Triple A Challenge - 14 Lines Maximum" Poetry Contest, Robert Haigh, Sponsor.
raging sun blew-up
the sky became a portrait
just god's handiwork
The Father’s Handiwork
The Christian truly appreciates
The Father’s handiwork of nature;
Perceives His love in every twinkling star;
Every beautiful, still lake a picture.
He sees His love in every flower bud,
Shrub and each variety of tree.
Gives thanks with adoration
For each mountain, river and sea.
God speaks to us in His word,
But His nature speaks as well.
A continuous love story
Each creation to man does tell.
So often in his hussle and bussle,
Man glazes over God’s love;
Fails to see his many blessings
Flowing from God’s throne room above.
Man is often perplexed
By the number of his cares.
He stresses over little things;
Feels the whole world he bears.
But this is truly not the case;
The Father watches over us all.
His handiwork’s so complex
From the ant hill to mountains tall.
The Father’s Handiwork of nature
Is so intricate in its design,
Only God can create such order
Amongst His creatures at one time.
Every bird that sweetly sings
And every bee that visits His flowers,
Has the Father’s creative design connection
That belongs to God, not ours!
Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2012
www.maureenlefanue.com
Leaves on the trees in my yard
Even now some are falling hard.
All of them have their own distinct look.
Very often we keep them in a book.
Everyone of them is beautiful and so grand.
Seeing that they were made by God's great hand!
For Carol Brown's contest "Leaves"
Jack Frost handiwork
dabs Vasoline for daybreak....
opaque swirl windshield
Related Poems