Swindling all the small things, Trolling graveyards
For ghosts that just don't seem to be anywhere
I think they live in the imagination alone.
Yet my fingers wave in the wind like leaves,
They ready to break off and fall,
Slowly - graceful like circus acrobats.
Eventually settling on the ground.
Mmm..I always did love the crackling
sound autumn leaves make..
Almost like walking through fire,
Almost like home..
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It is fall clean up in my garden, Lord.
I'm feeling guilty, sad, lonesome and blue.
The grasses and the weeds have over run
The lovely flowers, planted there for you.
Is this a mirror to my life dear Lord?
Have all my kinder deeds been overcome
By ugly thoughts and hurting acts and words?
Wild dandelion crowds out chrysanthemum?
Forgive me, Lord, if I have failed to tend
My garden in the manner that I should.
I'd claim the days I spent so foolishly
And use them more gainfully if I could.
Now that I'm in the autumn of my days,
I hope to take each day I have in store
And spend each precious second of that time
More usefully than I have done before.
Now as I pull each baneful weed and grass,
Removing each intruder one by one,
I hope to stand before you judgment day
Well kept, weed free, with all my gardening done.
By Joyce Johnson
For Constance a Rambling Poet's "I am sending you a gift of poetry, dear heart" contest
Inspired by her "Working in The Garden" poem on page 7 of her file
He watches the sparrow as it glides
In the brightest morning sky
He counts the times it's wings unfold
As He sees His creation fly
He whispers and the wind blows
As it moves the autumn leaves
He smiles and the waves arise
All across the mighty seas
He speaks to all the flowers
As they strain to reach His Voice
Even the mighty oak tree
Lifts his branches to rejoice
All of nature listens
To the Father as He commands
But He molded us in His own Image
With the Love in His own Hands
Living Picture
Walking through the park in the cool of the evening.
In the distance; I hear birds utter a succession of light chirping.
I feel the wind; a gift from the trees.
Falling ever so gently; vivid autumn leaves.
Dark cheerless clouds cradle the mysterious brimming moon.
Ivy leaves growing across the old iron fence gathering into festoons.
All around me is a plethora of picturesque scenery...
Waiting to be explored; as I continue on my journey.