Priestly Poems

Morning Song

My heart sings a morning song
I feel its soothing warmth
yellow sunshine drips down the dale
far and beyond

a whiff of enchanting breeze
skipping up and down the hills
whispering priestly prayers
all over the world

like clouds my soul drifts
freely among the towering cliffs
visualizing beauty so pristine
everywhere

nature cradles life with love
embracing each and everyone
singing gloriously to us
the morning song

and then my heart sings this morning song
skipping up and down the hills
far and beyond….. 


Honorable Mention
Contest Name : My Song
Sponsor : Jerry T Curtis

MIGHTY DAVID PRAISED AND DANCED BEFORE GOD SAMUEL 614-16

MIGHTY DAVID PRAISED AND DANCED BEFORE GOD (SAMUEL 6:14-16)

Mighty David praised and danced before God
David was a high stepper
A toe tapper
Man did He love God
Mighty David praised and danced before God
Mighty David praised and danced before God
And David danced before the Lord
And David danced before the Lord
Step, step O’ Hallelujah
Step, step O’ Hallelujah
Wearing His priestly garment;

David brought up shouts of joy
As he praised and dance
The people of Israel join in dance
Singing Hallelujah
Leaping and dancing before the Lord
David blessed the people
Fed them tween dances bread, cakes of dates and raisins
He just kept on praising
David danced before God

7/7/25
Written words & music by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
From “I CRY OUT TO YOU”

horn music

Horn Music

In the late forties and middle fifties 
horn music and military marches tunes
were often parlayed in the town's park 
and we lived nearby and bore the brunt
of this noisy music
to complain was not easy as the music
was seen as an expression of freedom 
chasing the German army out of our 
cherished country, admittingly with 
the help of the Russian army, the 
British took the credit
Horn music is simply horrible to enjoy
the noise one has to be unmusical 
one would think the noise had stopped
with the arrival of modernity, rock and roll
and Elvis Priestly, but no
I was invited in the eighties to read a poem 
in Oslo. When my turn came to read 
the horn orchestra struck up.

Unlearned and Ignorant

Unlearned and ignorant,
Mere nobodies,
Just fishermen,
Inferior mortals,
Far below
Proud priest and Pharisee and scribe.

For such to preach or teach
Within those holy temple walls
Was tantamount to blasphemy –
Just like that other man from Galilee.

No problem that
For two apostles bold,
Fresh-fired by God
To minister his mighty word
And heal a cripple forty years from birth.

Unscared by priestly threats, 
They blazed the scene 
With resurrection life.

Unlearned and ignorant maybe, 
But far above proud priest 
And Pharisee and scribe 
Supreme they stood, 
And spoke those holy words, 
“There is no other name 
By which we must be saved.” 

And rulers, elders, scribes and haughty priests 
Compelled to marvel 
And to note 
“These men had been with Jesus.”

Read about it in Acts chapter 4.

GODS' ANGEL AMONG US

Gods' angel among us
She's like a fresh and lovely rose
That angels planted, then God chose
Through a sweet, caring and loving soul

Gods' angel among us
For this woman's full of love
Was she not directed from above
Like a shadow, ever there

Gods' angel among us
Of which no one is aware
She never seeks attention
As underneath God's banner's folds

Gods' angel among us
But deep within her heart she knows
Her special grace and wisdom from God
She is "in Christ" created in the image of God

Gods' angel among us
Her arms and her heart are open
Given a special gift, by God's grace
God's beautiful and poetic masterpiece!

Gods' angel among us
Chosen by God for Priestly work
A wise, hospitable, and humble servant

Author: Floyd Neal
Date: November 9, 2014
Inspiration: Pastor Appreciation Anniversary

Trick Or Treat

The darkness of All Hallow's Eve
Ring out this night of soulful bells
In-between worlds of dark and light
Celtic, priestly, celebrations
Kindred spirits fear mournful ghosts

Old church cemetery, pitchfork straw
Ritual cakes of christened folks

Tended fires and saintly relics
Readiness for rural winter
English Russet apple bobbing
All souls gathered around the flames
Turnip lanterns with candle-wax

TALLEYRAND

Silk stocking filled with mud was Talleyrand.
With the future of France held in his hand,
He played kibitzer-informed cards with skill,
Maneuvering a Congress to his will.

There once was a Marquis named Talleyrand,
Who loved ladies and a fine sarabande
Smarts from ladies gained as a teen
Helped him escape the guillotine,
Surviving four regimes as he had planned.

Vested in priestly garb this backslidden Bishop
Chose diplomacy over baptism and hyssop.
Though Talleyrand walked with congenital limp,
He was never known as a diplomatic wimp.

The Boss Was Not

…Dunder Mifflin
actions not mortifying
suddenly
the voice of a sportscaster
erupts
with the time of day
giving
the time of day
quarterly

…Mash
not a lover’s quarrel
but
like Burns and Houlihan
together
to screw with “the cast”

…Priestly
but the devil
was tattooed on an arm
scaring
the hell out of us
causing
us to retreat
like boxers to our corners

…Hart
not sexual
but sleazy
an occasional liar
at
his desk, I
saw past his
Pinocchio nose
he’d
not get fired
but
our 9 to 5
was a little kinder

…Slater
but schemed
to make her own team
it
wasn’t Betty
that was ugly

…Me
for to be the boss
would mean
I’d have to drive
the machine
not
be sent off a cliff

…a novel opportunity
but
poetry

I come to you with the sunset

I come to you with the sunset,
Love becomes in me a priestly service.
Teach me how to keep silence as a compass,
How to dance on the strings of unsaid time.
At your threshold, I leave all my worries,
Here I rest my steps that ran at dawn,
And at night, when stars become voyagers,
Your smile is to me a verse, a song, beloved.
At your place, the garden fills with flowers and rain,
With a rain of love, of divine feelings,
And the last drop melts into your wine,
In the chalice where destiny whispers to us, divine.
With you, I leave a linden flower, our symbol,
In the memory of a love that does not fade through ages.
And if you're called by longing, if you want me close,
Place another linden flower between the pillows, to warm your chilly evening.
With you, I leave my dream, my thought, and time,
In all that seems today so belated.
With you, it feels right to settle myself orderly,
In all the things that today I still do not know.

Autumnal Resolutions

                             9/28/2023

     

Did you keep your all your last year’s grand resolutions? 

Or put on a priestly robe, and give yourself absolution?

NYE, the biggest hoax night, as if we will ever reach perfection?

Why not cherish everyday,as an awesome,achievable selection?

A message,on this beautiful day of autumnal and colorful introspection.

Best live each day fully,our lives works of art, in humble gratification!

Predatory Transgressor Priests

Accept the "Holy Fathers" stains?
What prideful tolerance sustains
The acts by priestly "Confessors"
Whose transgressions we all deplore.

Their molestations cause such pain
That no repentance can explain
To parishes stretched far and wide -
To innocents they cast aside.

Religious aristocracy,
Duplicitous conformity,
Accepted this hypocrisy -
This predatory blasphemy.

Faux piety to hide their shame,
Disdaining good and shielding blame;
No deft Indulgence could resolve -
No Inquisition would absolve.

Despicable to humankind,
By words and deeds now left behind;
No con nor lies supplant the proof:
The mirror to self-damning truth.

These crimes, these aggravated sins -
Atrocities no words can spin,
Nor can appeal 'yond earthly reign
For acquiesced eternal stains.

Fun Abc Poem Number Three

lacksidasical larry leaps lovingly through the air
making mincemeat marauders truly want to care
nine nefarious nigglebuns are trying not to stare
outrageously outstandingly outrunning marathon mare

providing pristine plots to princely priestly pree
quizzing quality quails wondering why I am free
resident ruffians reaching residual responsibility
stressing strenuous starlight studies under thee

tricky trustworthy triple treats tripping up and down the bay
understanding understudy underlings trying to have their say
visualizing various viillains we often meet along the way
‘xoecting ‘xact ‘xasperating ‘xersizes to save the day
zany zigzagging zealots zipping into the fray

Elvis a Friend

Elvis, a friend.

Into my café, a young man who combed his hair
Elvis Priestly style and naturally got the nickname, Elvis
He didn’t mind; the name gave him a purpose in life.

The young man, let’s call him Pedro, developed an air
Of fame, when he entered my café, he sought the table
In the middle of the room and greeted everyone.

Even his mother addressed him as Elvis.

In a flash, thirty years had gone time has no mercy
Elvis wore a shop-bought toupee and had gone fat
Fond, as he was of Napoleon cakes.

Elvis died, as Priestly did, in the bathroom; his mother
Agreed, to write on his stone, Elvis, “Pedro” RIP.

On the Cusp of Job

His sons used to take turns holding feasts in their homes…when a period of feasting had run its course, Job would send and have them purified. Early in the morning he would sacrifice a burnt offering for each of them, thinking, “Perhaps my children have sinned and cursed God in their hearts.”  

 Job 1:5 NIV

ON THE CUSP OF JOB

On the cusp of Job,
we find his sons
and daughters
feasting apart,
their hearts failing
their father and God.

On the cusp of Job’s
disasters, he purifies
and teaches.
He loves his kin
ever so much.

On the cusp of life’s 
divide, Job’s priestly
responsibilities. Serious
as mannah delivered 
every morning
to the hungry crowd.

On the cusp of pain
and sorrow, too great
for one man to take -
yet down the line
we find Jesus’ sacrifice.

On the cusp of this generation,
do we nudge our children 
toward salvation or perdition?
Do we teach them to have
a lively faith?

7/6/2022

Final verse inspired by words from Ellicott’s Commentary

Acting Yourself -- Your Self

I
If the Universe came into being Itself
As a quantum vacuum
Which is never totally empty
Never devoid of all particles and energy 
Then, one-actor is the Source
Of everything there is!
If all it takes is energy to gather
Then enough mass will create!
Be it star, sun, or life -- human or other

II
You are the one actor on stage
The universal stage
Shakespeare got a hint of it
One actor in his time plays many parts
Like plasma, protoplasmic, slow flow
Go, go, go, through each galaxy
Like a Midas touch for life miracles ...
There is no Other! All self, the Universal Self
As Jesus prayed, lived, played
Out: Exeunt stage Right

Scripture: Gospel of John, see Jesus' talk on Holy Spirit, and His high priestly prayer, Jn.17

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