Recourse Poems - Poems about Recourse

Why should I add another word To words already spoke and heard. Because to say, "The morning web was hung with light." Is not to say, "A spider gathered jewels today."...

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While wishing for that convenient chair do not arrange answers with presumed prayer. Wise words in recourse reckoning - patience preferred and bless-ed beckoning. Listen, look up until grace rewards reason with your Father’s face. Find rest and relief in His embrace. (works for parking places also)...

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Assistance for spiritual purification needs attention in our hearts blessed with kindness for to restrain our body and mind cleansed without contention and flourish remotely as not to blindness gifts given unto us to stay in holy blessedness that we've acquired through love not to boast beget me strong with your presence that's not incredulous maintain my living uncontaminated as is foremost encourage...

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Flush with falling leaves of rust, I stand balanced among the dampness of night; Glittering skies alighting my path. A chilled repetitive moan of wind catches the serried strands of my hair, while frost lightly tickles my frozen face. The celestial crescent adorning October surrounds me in a quilted patch of darkness as the harshness of Winter confrontation draws near....

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If at worst I seem Pray not for hell Or the heavy beam Say alls swell Fight the force And quell the calm Without recourse...

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My love has never been closer. Unfold your eyes to the hushed glow That strips your armor. Oh, our emotional multitudes! Our quaking desires! Where does a whisper come from? Does your head not twitch as the crow's does? We’re all holy in our being, Sacred in our existence. Our blood rushing through Livid presence. All being One. All being Love. No other recourse....

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I seek help from no one else But Jesus Christ, my Lord an' all. This daily grind ever fails; In Christ, I'm free from brawl. I can't go back to the place of death From where He snatched me by His blood. His grace and love are my breath; From Christ does my life daily bud. Though I face a stormy gale, His...

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Blow Blow now, blow Wind of recourse Blow Sweep the thistles off Their rooted feet Clear the sharp thorns Off the fertile farm. Blow Blow quickly, blow Wind of recourse Blow Let the millet grow in peace Without the troubling weed Let the spinach bloom and spread Without the piercing nails of the thorns Blow Blow hurriedly, blow Wind of recourse Blow Blow across the length Blow across the breadth Of this...

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Recourse The old man bends his knees- to the graveyard of speech. His barren stretched arms raise up. Orates the last of his unpronounced plea, for a piece of sky, for a grip of dust. Unresolved. Like that of a master and his beast unwilling to pull the bondage of labour and grin. The latter's breath...

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A mist is coming off the dishwasher sea, Noon daylight is wearing thin, A dormouse rustles last year’s leaves The village sward shines verdant green So much is done, so much will come, So much is still to do! So, we’ll make a friend of the soft grey dawns And by light work the long evening through. © Joe Maverick 08-10-2010...

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tick. . . tick. . talk the time today busy a great gather of basketed flowers that might move us towards great outlawed-metered parked cars ticketing themselves and twist. . . twist your fire-hydrant wrist while the streets look the other way simple lack-luster awaits your perceptive 50’s point of view but it’s all the daughters that decide off which part of...

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