unmasking a sunshine holiday
feeling free and delightful in the gentle breeze
smiling at the first sight of the cool clear water
the whole of my soul is free and i cherish the vibe of it all
totally relaxed, eyes closed, massaged by rare rhythms
the cardinal is expresses her appreciation of the beautiful day in her elegant element of fusion
completely by myself my sanity shows its gratitude in complete stillness
blue skies inspires me to play hooky from the normalcy of life
my imagination decorates the bullseye of its unexpected confirmation
the joy in the air around me right now has a maternal ambiance
as a direct result, i simply Cherish The Blessed Day
{For 5x5x3 Poetry Contest
Sponsor : Miranda Hawley
Date submitted: 20/4/25}
ARTIST
They shone daring green avocado
in dark adverse period swearing
guilt ridden heart vanquished free
sacral scrubbed pink and ready
plumed serpent in magnificent bloom
with candles God watched supreme
from blue misty mountain clean
knowing Artist was not insane
two green irises unusually plain
pierced her luminous spine divine
naked Eve eyed painting quiet
easels of unfinished tired purple
massaged her throat coloured gurgle
rooms without curtains collapsing sad
Artist pierced Love bubble mad
IN PRAISE OF DIVINE LIBERATION
I once wallowed in apathy,
I once had bad feelings
Of being unworthy;
Struggling with failure:-
In anger, I once felt
God had abandoned me,
Until a keloid memory
Of a childhood lesson
In gracious spirituality,
Massaged my aching soul;
And with amazing divine
Wisdom and guidance,
I became blessed
With the healing awareness
That lesson had taught:-
In renewed soul searching prayer,
I sought action to replace apathy,
And labors of love were revealed;
I beggingly asked God for help
in arriving at belief self worthiness,
And it was profoundly given to me;
I knocked on the door of determination,
And opening widely, it ushered out failure,
Graciously ushered in faithful persistence:-
Indeed, with forgiveness and supreme love,
God has never ever abandoned me; rather,
It has always been me abandoning Him!
Yet, with His forgiveness and supreme love,
God has now eternalized me with living faith;
Energizing me in being an instrument of His love
And a reflector of graciousness in labors of His love:
To god be the glory for forgiveness and divine liberation!
Captivating scents, in delicate layers
Ylang ylang , Jasmine and Tuberose flowers
Sandlewood, Frangipaini, Lilies and Rose
the fragrance of love in a scene so close.
Gamelan percussion
for the wedding guest procession
The crowds are entranced
as the cymbal bells dance.
The Groom collects his Bride from the day before
massaged in aroma's from before the dawn
her skin is as delicate as her Songket gown
Gold thread layers on her golden crown
Steamed white rice sitting on bamboo mats
served by both in adorning hats
the exotic foods are a feast to the eyes
and their love is as pure
as the rising skies.
She doesn't have to love me
But she's soul does
She spoke the words she loves me
But it's from above
God given God gave
Agape
O what a beautiful love
She hears in her heart
Those the words that speak Life
O what a beautiful love
My actions are secured
From my heart the Lord
O what a beautiful love
Has molded and massaged me
To be a love as God so shows
Agape
O what a beautiful love
O Hallelujah O what a beautiful love
Please forgive me for any negativity
Come be with me and our Father's creativity
A story has been written and we have been read
Let us lift up praises jointly with our hands
04/9/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2024
Circumstance lost control;
Lost obstacles betrothed;
Whom am I to unanswer the call;
While on my stomach vividly I crawl;
Points of random denial;
Circumcised heart chiseled because of its hardness;
No longer harden massaged by the Father's hands;
Beautifully conformed I am;
Shore beautiful
I am moved in grace, present before His face;
A child of the Righteousness of Father God;
Endowed in His amazing grace;
2/25/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024
Shallow Waters got me walking the top mountains;
In depth deep Waters got me standing taller;
Moistened air got me inhaling humid swallows;
I sit High and I look low I'm in heavenly places;
I have no shame no disgraces;
I am bound to God's truths;
And I am absolute;
Holy wholly to the lamb;
~
Deep dark valleys got mine visions clouded
Like the skies at night broken by a pin drop of light;
My brain comprehends the spark;
My Father has a massaged my harden heart
I sit High and I look low I'm in heavenly places;
I have no shame no disgraces;
I am bound to God's truths, and I am absolute;
Holy wholly to the lamb;
For I am an eagle and I sit on high
For I look down from heavenly places
~
Rivers ever flowing like a snake crawling;
I am ever beholden to the energies flowing;
Wide eyes open I see beyond the horizon;
I sit High and I look low I'm in heavenly places;
I have no shame no disgraces;
I am bound to God's truths, and I am absolute;
Holy wholly to the lamb
For I am an eagle and I sit on high
For I look down from heavenly places
2/11/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2024
These hands
By Michelle Morris
20/02/2021
These hands are sacred,
They have held so much in their time;
From baby bath bubble moments to
Writing poetry in notebooks -
Transcending space and time...
These hands have blessed my life,
And that of others too;
They've held people close,
Smoothed teardrops from cheeks;
And massaged weary muscles
Overworked and weak...
These hands, they are a gift
From God above;
With these hands I pass on so much
Light and love -
Their healing is heaven's gift,
The blessing of a loving touch...
© Michelle Morris, 2021
A gentle wind combs the long tresses
of peppercorn trees and brings
a sense of ease, the soft stroking
of a morning to slowly awaken
drowsy souls from sleep.
I enter the space and take in
the quiet, feel a comfort in being
here, sink into a silky, way off drift
as that which lulled the mind
when, as a child, my grandmother's
fingers massaged my head
and at that moment
there was no other place
I wanted to be.
*Image of Making Kalua Pig by Hawaii Luaus
Kalua Pig Luau
Hawaiian salt massaged pork
drawn from an "imu"--
a hot rocks pit ere covered.
Succulent pulled-pork
tenderly yielding
juice-dribbling
bliss.
2022 May 31
*1st Place*
Whats Cooking on the Grill this Summer? Contest
~~M. L. Kiser: Judged 2022 August 12
*HMS: 7,5,7,5,5,3,1.
Another roll-over-in-bed poem
A nose blow and a wide yawn separates a lubricated **** scene from a gravelly scripture. In that gap, the harlot’s far from the screen.
My blade’s lacquer reveals the blood of my nightmares. Evasive mirrors hide the sum of my white hairs. The mucus of the acetic isn’t enough to stir up lust for a ghost, so I scroll for a post that soothes me the most.
When they let me in the garden, I don’t bite the apple; the yoni is worshipful.
It’s buried in the pit, and excavated in the chambers.
It is massaged. It is kissed. It is suckled. I return to sleep.
With a deliberated ruse; she washed its tiny face with a soft washcloth.
With no resistance, she enfolded the wee infant into a swaddling cloth.
In the Autumn equinox, she placed the tiny form in the simple wooden box.
She watched them perform their antiquated burial tradition, and then she returned to the loose gray dirt.
She then headed home with a secret beneath her skirt.
Earlier during the dim of the day, while they were seeking each other for comfort.
And while superficial prayers were offered up with great effort.
She blew breath into the tiny mouth and massaged its tiny smooth chest.
And by the grace of God, the tiny infant was blessed.
Madame Blackwell by virtuous askew created a makeshift bundle and made a switch.
Her deed made unnoticed without a glitch.
No regret manifested in her heart.
No transient sorrow, in place was a spiritual upstart.
For retribution was pacified and made whole.
There was a righteous mood in her soul.
Justice was done.
For her, the sun's unsparing glory shone radiantly on her and her son.
We called our Bed and Breakfast the Presidents’ House
A sprawling antebellum Italianate with a rich historical past
Fed our guests tasty nourishing breakfasts of presidential repast
Served by an eighteenth century-adorned raconteur, my spouse.
Our guest house was known for its spectral residents merry
Many we met, got to know, and interacted with over the years
Some got acquainted with our guests if they showed no fears
Prominent to visit from the house of the dead was Ms Jerri.
She was sassy, could be mischievous; at times playful and sweet
Until they met Jerri or her friends some were reluctant to believe
Other guests agreed what the mind believes the eyes can achieve
Once a female guest became quite ill and chose to stay in her suite
When she got over her flu and came down to breakfast one day,
She wanted to know who had visited her and massaged her feet.
She insisted this was one fine woman she wanted, in person, to meet.
We told her then, in great detail, about Jerri our shadowy spirit’s stay.
Written on February 12, 2021
For "Ghost Contest"
Sponsored by Julia Ward
Written by Gail DeBole on March 16, 2020
There once was a kitty named Kelly
Who watched his shows on the telly.
When someone massaged his ears
Kelly’s purr became clear
And he became one cheerful felly.
After many years, I sat in a church service filled with culture, custom, ritual, and tradition. The experience took me back and reminded me of the early years of my childhood. The religious and worship experience of my childhood left much to be desired and afforded very little awareness of a Biblical world view. Today, as I sat, observed, and participated, I felt no real presence of a Christ-centered worship experience. No, I was not in a critical mood. These were my brothers and sisters in Christ. Instead, there was a deep cry in my heart and a weeping in my spirit. I do not deny that it is possible that I built a personal partition that may have hindered my worship experience. However, I knew what was lacking and so did others among them who had been massaged and soothed for many a year, but there was too little backing for long-awaited changes.
Realizing my stay would be shortlived and my contribution toward changes would be nill, I left with a feeling of helplessness but also with a hope and a desire to pray that God would rain upon the desert in a little church called Promise Land.
111712PoSoup
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