So many bright tomorrows have crept by
becoming lost. So many sorrows
to gather in boxes that time borrows
from earth’s storehouses with no reply.
I sense the memories giving ride to you—
the compass of your journey turning north
with white hibiscus blossoms sending forth
spirit-peace that flowers into rescue.
Darkness enters slowly to the garden,
with candlelight we’ll make this evening shine.
Come out with me to share a loaf of bread,
what’s lost we’ll leave to heaven to pardon.
We’ll drink to life and lift a glass of wine––
let be awhile––the prophecies we dread.
I see the evergreen live oaks in my backyard as old wise souls
Cosmic storehouses of wisdom, integrity and strength from the source
They stand tall soaring up high with their expansive curved brushwood
Spreading it in various directions to meet up with nearby oaks in the neighborhood
Beautiful shaded canopies they form bringing their shiny green foliage closer together
Make numerous cool, unruffled spots in the backyard to hang-out in burning summer weather
I respect their grandfatherly presence whenever I see them,
Admire their might and ability to provide generously to various animal domains
Fresh breeze blows warm air
bringing God's blessing* with bliss
...refreshing sweet hope!
Deuteronomy 28:8 The LORD shall command the blessing upon thee in thy storehouses, and in all that thou settest thine hand unto; and he shall bless thee in the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
March 30, 2019
Life beats him down
Man springs up again
History assures him: Tyranny will triumph
Man outmanned rises up against evil
Diseases plague him endlessly
Eliminate one; two more appear
Tornadoes, hurricanes, cyclones
Destroy his homes, his cities, his storehouses
Resolute, he rebuilds them---over and over again...
I indeed need the things you crave
but will not make myself a stark slave.
Men who are truly in need
do not gather grains in greed...
There are no storehouses in the grave.
I need no golden chain and classy shoes,
there are better things for me to choose...
a heart void of hatred,
and some clothes for the naked.
What does a great river have to lose?
For every high and mighty mountain,
there is a fresh and fragrant fountain...
we do not have to impress,
there is no need to oppress...
The needy and the greedy are death's gain.
Jehovah gave me two boxes to keep
One box was black the other was gold
In the black box, put the tears that you weep
Put your sorrows inside for it to hold.
The gold box is for all the joys you reap
My joys increased, blessings were manifold
The little black box felt as light as air.
Surprise, surprise, my sorrows were not there.
Jehovah, where did all my sadness go?
My dearest child, they are all here with me
Storehouses will open blessings will flow
Always trust in me, was his fervent plea.
I’ll carry your burdens, give me your woes.
My care will never fail; it is the key.
The meaning of the boxes is sublime.
Jehovah’s wisdom and justice are prime.
We have an excellent helper and friend.
We have nothing to fear, he’s always near
Our heavenly Father will help us mend
If we listen, then do our best to hear
Hearing means doing what he recommends.
He guides our steps. Makes the road smooth and clear
Because of him, our lives are desirable.
These truths I sang complete this parable.
THE BOOK LOVER
Some women pine for silks and pearls
Some shop away their hours
But I’ve a book-hound in my blood
Preferring books to flowers
Each page I touch With loving hand
I trace the print snug there
The whitest page grants me delight
The yellow brings despair
The old bookshops on dusty streets
Are storehouses of dreams
They guard the dancing continents
And trolls that bridge the streams
And for each story hidden there
Mid pages silken glories
An offering of bouncing tales
replace bland bedtime stories
And on this paper
Fine or rough
my fingers gently roam
Safely in these books I find my place--
And build myself a home.
Victoria Anderson-Throop
Juja, Kenya
A reference for every thought
Deconstruct all you think and find the link
To the last time you felt that way
Heard the words
Learned that fact
Disassemble the pieces of the things and
Actions you hold to be true
Find the place in the litany of your life
And note down the author, the theorist
The lover and map the route to the
Conurbation of storehouses and pyramids
Of belief and time
Track each thought, each breath, each moment
That constructed these towns of ideas
And live the informed like evaluating each
Placement
Fortify only the foundations of these that
Hold under such intense surveillance
The necter of Gods garden
is the essence of our love
come let us inhale deeply
of her perfume
let us cultivate together
the colors
of its bed
In unity plant its seedlings
and tend her germinations
let us extract the fragrances
and robe our lives
in the sweetness of her care
kissed with her fruits
and her bouquet
how comely are her furrows
whose plantings are of love
a balm and ointment to sooth
her place of rest for all the
weary
ambrosia is her drink
and incense is her prayer
she supplies our chalices with joy
as does a spring meadow
gather her blossoms
and decorate your halls
and banquet together
in the produce of her fields
for she brings forth richly
from the storehouses of her wealth
Come pluck her fruit
and drink of her presses
her cistern flows saps of maples
and within her the tastes are sweet
source Song of Solomon
COPYRIGHT © 2011
Things are getting worse and worse
even within my own home
Everyone knows it is coming
but how will you prepare?
Silver and gold wont save you
Storehouses and dehydration wont save you
I'm doing what I need to know
it came at the right time
I will be better prepared for when the time comes
Cause I already failed my first test
which would've been the end of me
I need the mercy and justice
I need the hope and happiness
All I can do is keep meditating and praying
it's the only strength and comfort I have
Tears run down my face from adversity
Times are getting worse
and I see them within my own home
I have a plan
I see an out let
Now I just have to get there
Honey combs swollen..sticky and sweet
Apples candied or chopped for mince meat
Raisins dried from my Daddy's grape vine
Verily I say.. it's again harvest time..
Eager for Winter and sun shortened days
Storehouses busting we bring in the strays
Tilling and tending ... the work and the grime
Toiling and teamwork.. we receive Harvest time..
Intervals of hours.. of weeks and years
Miles of work.. with blood.. sweat and tears..
Every time to a season.. every season for a time
~With our hearts full of gladness..
we celebrate Harvest Time!
I am going to say adios to the movies,
Where cars are houses,
And houses are storehouses.
I am going to say adios to the movies,
Where boy friends are easily found,
But batteries not included.
I am going to say adios to the movies
Where the girls are looking for the fun,
But batteries to be recharged soon.
I am going to say adios to the movies,
***Where a son is enamored of his own mother
*And in bed a father seeks his own daughter
**And blood sister seeks in bed her own brother.
I am going to say adios to the movies,
Where an unmarried girl wants a child,
Her mother takes her to the city ahead,
Taking the cows to a bull like a shepherd.
Leave your message please,
I shall get back to you at ease.
* The movie: Art of crying
** The Cruel Intentions II
*** Julienne Moore starer
=======================================
Fifth place win in
Contest: Outrageous Rhyme
Abba Father, your love;
Is a swelling joy to my soul,
A balm to my wounded heart,
A revelation to my seeking
spirit.
All that I needed is in you,
Open now your storehouses of,
treasures untold and unending,
Enrich my life with
your bountiful true riches;
for all my work I've rested in you.
Endow my heart
with Your life and love
Advance me to a special
place in your bosom,
Let your love like living
waters overflow my life.
In my mind, thousands of memories swim around.
Funny how we store them up,sort and stack them,are them.
I'm so glad sometimes,
glad nobody can see....
all the memory storehouses
that live and breath deep down inside of me.
Every wonderful sunset,
and flowers that were picked just for me.
Faces that became my past,
sweet nothings, and broken dreams,
good intentions and many promises
they should have known wouldn't last.
And,
times I've spent with my family,
my sister and two dads.
A bus-ride with my brother they'll never let me forget!
The laughter of my childhood,
and the moment I heard my daughter cry for the first time,
sweet bliss.
So many, many others,
but I think I'll let those be.
It still amazes the moments we chose to keep.
A reflection of what makes us so unique.
I guess i'm gonna close the vault,
it seems I found some peace,
and yes it's okay, I've come to learn
some of those dancing memories will never cease.
why Is It that so few have so much
and so many have so little?
where is the equality?
where is the justice?
why is there world hunger?
when there is food aplenty
locked up in storehouses and silos?
holding out for the highest bidder,
while rats and mice are getting fatter
feasting on the surplus
why is there homelessness?
when there are apartments
and homes sitting vacant
Is It not better to get some rent
than to get no rent?
holding out for the highest bidders
a woman placed her last two coins
into the basket as an offering, a tithe
a rich man put twenty coins into the basket.
Jesus said "she has given her all"
while the rich man only gave a token
her faith and trust in God
will get into the Kingdom of Heaven
but the rich man will not enter
for the Kingdom of Heaven
Is not holding out for the highest bidder
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.