When dawn on the valley came singing anew,
And the heavens were painted a glorious blue,
I lifted my voice with a grateful refrain,
For mercy had called me from sorrow and pain.
The Lord is my Shepherd, my refuge, my guide,
A fountain of hope through the years that abide;
His promise shall carry the weary and worn,
Like music that rises with each golden morn.
I’ve wandered through shadows where troubles have grown,
Yet grace gave me courage and strength of my own;
The Savior stood near in the trials I knew,
And opened the pathway where faith could shine through.
So sing, all ye faithful, with joy in your song,
For heaven’s great kingdom is mighty and strong;
The love of the Father shall ever remain,
A blessing of comfort through sunshine and rain.
When my final hymn reaches the heavens above,
I’ll rest in the arms of eternal love;
For souls that are humble and steadfastly pray,
Shall find everlasting and glorious day.
There's always one, maybe two, and sometimes three
But there is definitely one__
That 'One'
That daughter or son
The one that carries the indomitable light
The one willing to do the shadow work and fight the 'Good Fight'
The one that's often ridiculed,
But she or he is not afraid to enter the dark, cold vestibule
And enter they will, with that radiant light
Steadfastly they walk, shining bright
They're ten toes down when it comes to God's work
They move ahead in the face of the worst vitriol and all the hurt
There's always 'One'__
Whether daughter or son
There's always 'One'
I don't believe in half measures,
to live by such is solely to live but not to be alive.
I want to experience the beauty of life in all of its manifestations.
I want to feel the spray on my face as I sail through singing along with the Sirens.
There is no past and no future wherein we live,
only an eternal present, and within this I want to love you; to love you fully, strongly, and steadfastly.
If my love doesn't melt your heart then all you need say is stop.
For to live alive is to embrace all things, and
No matter how great there is no pain which out weighs the joy of love shared by those who dare.
drifting in a zestless world of hypocrisy,
aching to dispel the lunacy
echoing with distorted imageries,
held in a bastille of utter carnage;
I’m abundantly devoted to
breaking free from what enslaves me.
acquire
wading through the necrotizing tenor
that binds me,
steadfastly drawing near, while
teetering on the confines of
my perilous mind and altruistic heart—
prodigiously culminating.
Taking back what the enemy stole.
Steps
shaking
stand surely
striving to stride
steadfastly sober
stretching skills, not sudden
shaped along serene success*
supplicating, shining--- soaring
smiting slothfulness and selfishness…
sharing blessings from God’s supply store
secured through faith of stewardship
settled against dearth sorrows
suffice, conquering stress
sustained for showing
s a t i s f i e d s o u l
serves well sans
steadfast
stops.
*Joshua 1:8-9 This book of the law shall not depart out of thy mouth; but thou shalt meditate therein day and night, that thou mayest observe to do according to all that is written therein: for then thou shalt make thy way prosperous, and then thou shalt have good success. Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
Nonet form with alliteration
March 11, 2026
1st place, "Open the Door and Enter the World of Possibilities" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Sara Kendrick; judged on 5/17/2026
Our love for our resilient Haiti
Remains steadfastly unconditional.
Our love for this beloved country
Remains obviously emotional.
For a quarter of a century,
The others did not do too much,
For this yesteryear paradise island.
For more than a dozen years,
The incompetent and spurious leaders,
The opponents and the exiled ones
Also ruled this precious piece of land.
So far, no significant improvement…
Corruption, theft, piratry, poverty,
Kidnappings, death, mismanagement
Lies, excuses and misery …
This is not the hell that our forefathers died for…
I can tell you more, I can prove you more.
God Almighty, there is a constant and eternal search
For real leadership, unlike the bad ones
That we have had unfortunately over the last centuries.
We are tired of seeing Haiti among the poorest countries.
Our love for Haiti
Is sadly emotional.
Our love for this poverty stricken country
Remains simply unconditional.
Copyright© January 2010, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
Hope and Solitude
"I hear the ticking of the clock"
i count along...one...two
I didn't even get to ten
Before I thought of you
It's been a week since we shared words
Things said in haste regretted
And stubborn pride stands steadfastly
To vanity indebted
They say time heals such foolish wounds
But chance is likely meagre
With her you're home, safe and secure
With me, your wild and eager
"I hear the ticking of the clock"
The silence pierced by rhythm
My hopes of you, my soulmate
lie empty, unforgiving
Taken from "Alone", made famous by Heart
I am a mango tree sprouted at the backyard
when I am full of leaves, humans for shade come to me.
when I am in flower, they admire me
when I bear fruits, they stone me
when I shed leaves, they curse me
when I am old, they hack and cut me.
birds and squirrels in all seasons and clime,
never expecting a dime, steadfastly love me.
they leave me full of glee,
but from men, I would rather flee!
Heart of mine throbs with triumph
grateful for exposure to life yon survival
while beholding beauty of kindness
midst faith's navigating compass.
Likewise, my soul keeps on worshipful
seeking for God’s approval and favor
basking in His grace, mercy, compassion
along faith's childlike trust.
Despite challenges and trials
my spirit strives toward victorious claim
vanquishing adversities while reaching-out
with faith* cleaving to the Omnipotent hand.
Steadfastly clinging to divine help
I continue on, delighting in my journey
doing my best, inspiring others
as faith increases, glowing with vibrant hope.
*Mark 11:22 And Jesus answering saith unto them, Have faith in God.
August 15, 2025
2nd place, "Pick-A-Title, Vol 54" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 9/5/2025
Rather than talking to walls -
I talk to the universe
Which talks back.
The Milky Way hails -
The stars wink endlessly -
The planets - they enchant -
And if my ears are sharp -
I might hear steadfastly
The drum of time
In sync with my heart -
The crickets and the owls
As one rhyme.
"He won’t paint", cried out the Father
suspecting a flame of genius
in the toddler’s eyes.
The painterly parent bought paper, acrylics,
oils, brushes, chalks, and crayons,
not even a finger painting emerged.
The child steadfastly refused to paint.
The father pleaded:
“For the glory of God why not paint!”
His offspring only turned away
to suck a thumb.
Months past…years.
The child grew to be a sullen teenager.
He began to write poetry – and such woeful,
doleful poetry!
Exclamation marks rose up in heaven
as thick as bamboo forests.
His father read them, his face grew ashen
with a sickly alarm.
The poems spoke of phantasmagorical visions,
hordes of screaming demons, dismembered
herds of hapless humans.
Abysmal were the visions the boy unleashed
from his newly erupted consciousness.
Presentiments flew up from the pages
as horrid as the blood-red dragons of Hades.
Upon reading his son’s latest works
the father exclaimed:
“For God’s sake, NEVER paint!”
He took the young man for long walks in the country,
forced him to join a local soccer team,
suggested a military career,
alas
the boy began to paint.
An old clock ticks in the background
Never quite sure of what time it is
Yet steadfastly sure it is right at least twice a day
It will not tell you your blood pressure
Nor will it count your footsteps
Or find you the nearest Starbucks
Its gears will eventually wear down
Softly lose their edginess
Its ticks become a fading whisper
It will slowly become more silent
Its presence less noticeable
Unless it is a friggin’ Cuckoo clock
This is an open prayer
I hope Heaven is listening
When temptation lingered
I purposefully skipped it
I’m not trying to please Eden
It’s Heaven that I’m pleasing
I hope they follow this example
Bad fruits stay forbidden
Today I wouldn’t give in
Your blessings I am needing
You said;
Good deeds will be rewarded
Good fruits I’d be reaping
On your vine, I’d stay divine
Heaven don’t neglect me
The fruits that I’d be yielding
The Fruits of the Holy Spirit
Love, Joy, Peace, Patience
I’d take on the road
Kindness, Goodness, Gentleness,
is going to ease the load
Faithfulness and Self-Control
steadfastly chase my goals
I pray your Spirit fuels my bones
As it strengthens my soul
I believe this space must be appreciated
Blank, white, plain to see
Why are we so quick to cover up
That which is boundlessly free
Look at this space between the frame
Question, wonder, and consider
Here is a blank field, free for the taking
With potential untapped, as it were
But perhaps something sad should be noted
This canvas gets only one experience
Endless possibilities, limited to one
Only one potential can be in existence
But if we refuse and never color in the white
Then the canvas can continue to dream
But never live any true reality
Purity is a dilemma it does seem
Do we remove its potential and give it a path
Or do we keep the possibilities open and allow it to imagine
How do we choose such a powerful choice
Both options seem like a terrible sin
So make your choice (I steadfastly refuse)
This space is like a child who does need grow
So consider your own past and wonder which is worth it
Because perhaps to choose we should be a little more slow
I
abhor
the way that
you’ve silently
stalked me in my house
I have begged you to leave
But you steadfastly refused
I’ve just found you in my bedroom
I’m rooted to the spot in terror
And yell so loudly my son rushes in
Help!
I scream.
My son looks
At my white face.
He bravely squares up,
corners the intruder
then pounces like a cat.
“Gotcha”! He says in triumph
As he captures the small spider
“You are safe to move again now mum”
How I hate being arachnid phobic!
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