Most Beloved Woman I Lost
was in my heart, as enchanted rose
that I didn't harvest, I didn't cultivate...!
He is The-Easily-Frightened Graham,
His Natural Father Amram Abraham;
Like Lord God’s Abraham could farm
But unlike him could kill or harm
Either with his right or left arm
Normally meant for just his farm …
And harmed he did A Sir Wickham
In his hand, a harvested yam
And he was sure “One from my farm!”
His challengers misery like a balm:
A Wickham bearing Bowls of Alm
And until then, not keep quite calm …
So tough This Guy for David’s Psalm
Or baring a prayerful palm
That I agreed with a Doctor Sam,
Also, a Zealous First-Rate Ham
About DNA Test for Graham
On his fathering by Abraham.
On right time and due
all with love being harvested
with love is picked
Harvested molded clay
when you lose your way
Jesus is a way maker
Jesus finds a way
He's right there at the harvest
'Im soiled clay God molds me
2/23/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
So I harvested loyal, lonely love
harvested legendary, lively love
harvested lovely, loving love
little love
low love
lovable, lean love
harvested loud, lucky love
harvested lovable, long love
harvested lush, lit light love
harvested I
3/2/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
CLAY MAN HARVESTED MOLD FROM CLAY--
God I am your harvest
I’m your won’t you come cultivate me
Oh, Lord I am your harvest
Liken a planted tree
Won’t you come mold me like a pot of clay
Lord my God make me in your image today;
2/7/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2019©
Nature's Harvested Bounty
Deep and dark are the thick , tall forested hills
where swift icy streams send cold crossing chills
Thinning out where the trees meet the grassy meadows and fields
hunters reap the harvest that nature so bountifully yields
An early morning hunt that provided food for hearth and home
gathered with weapons in hands as hunters ever so quietly roam
Nature reluctantly gives up it's great living treasure
as grateful families thank God for gifts beyond measure.
Home before noon to have newly cooked meals
Satisfied and amply fed , pure bliss is how it feels
Early afternoon nap to renew those hardy spirits
nature whispers inspirations, can you hear it?
03-12-2011 --Tyr
I waited in the darkness, whispering secret prayers
Summoned from my long lost faith.
I gazed at the moon as it was repeatedly sliced
By the momentous raising of his mighty arm.
I can hear their coarse calls to each other,
Gentle swishing and crushing
As they carefully make their way
In this moonlight maize.
I have been found; the reaping will begin.
He ploughs his sickle deep into my stalk
Rough worked hands cover my ears
Ripped in the peak of my bloom.
Carted to his market and displayed
Forced to sell my body for his profit.
** I realize I took a darker turn with this poem than I think Brian intended, but I submitted it
anyway.
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