Without light, the world is cold and dark.
Sans decorous evergreens to light up the park.
Cries in the night, flesh hidden from view.
It’s a nightmare - a deep, unsettling brew.
The sun, moon and stars, lightning flash
all traded away for immorality’s cash.
“Think…think…think…”
Can’t remember one iota of ink
from the treasure trove of prophecy
and its fulfilment. Despondency -
weeping and gnashing of teeth
in an angry and funereal bier underneath
the sheath you thought protected you -
world was your oyster, avoided the pew.
Laughter and arrogance like thick fog,
now you reside in a fiery bog.
Dear one, this is not what the Father wanted,
however you, in reverie, were not undaunted.
“Commandments, rules, bah-humbug…”
Your claws, to the center of the earth, dug.
Your plot led to your eternal plot.
You’d close your ears to what was taught.
Is it merely a nightmare? Is there time left to believe?
The hourglass sand of 2,000 plus years. Rapture’s Eve?
12/15/2022
Fluorescent sun pedestals of floral engaging stocks
Mediocre ballasts stars common folks
Blistering grounds heated winded air
Clumper some rocks asphalt cracks
Marshmallow puff clouds on blue tears
Beneath the first heavens
Accomplishing much saving
Spirits flow fly spiraling
A rose arising uplifting toward the skies
First to meet in the humble then the newborn
Birthday arise lift up their heads their eyes
Towards the heavenlys rising to the skies
Uplifting believers Mercy Grace seizures
Captivating captured forgiveness believer
Repented forgiven Mercy capture caught up now rapture
8/18/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©
Had I those depths that elsewhere thrive,
Swiftly I’d into your blissful fathoms dive;
And bid old pangs on the loveless shore
Eternal bye as I toe and hair slink below.
Breathlessly I’d raptured sink down till
Heart and mind grow all mute and still;
And yet explore your depths’ fairer find
By dainty dints of amorous ions twined.
I’d not satisfied yield to early pleasures
That delude shallower ocean creatures;
Deeper yet would my rapt cruising go,
Farther byeing old pangs of the shore.
If transient blisses be earlier found
In my fishy drifts downward bound,
Savor them I may but further glide
Beyond easy pies Romeos deride.
At last methinks I should espy
Your ocean’s bed before I die;
And even if not I must for now
Sink yet for deeper feel below.
~~~soft undercurrents
my tender hands unearthing
raptures of delight~~~