The Strength of the Will
Deep within every soul lay the strength of the will
All the temperance and fortitude that it can instill
When seeking for some answers and confusion is the host
Is when your inner strength of the will is needed the most
There are constant tests for this strength of the will
Willpower becoming a saviour, a time tested skill
Right and wrong deeply inwoven within your mind
Thoughts, feelings and confusion all intertwined
Temptations will constantly test your strength of the will
Be it of the body, the mind, or some extreme test of skill
Though you may stumble and fall prey to some ordeal
Only strengthens your resolve to everything that is real
The strength of the will can be different to everyone
For it may be a solemn promise that must be done
Or a silent understanding of what you’ve become
Perhaps lessons learned that you have overcome
When you feel conquered by some kind of strife
When you question your destiny within your life
When you feel simple tasks are like climbing a hill
Is when you pray to find your strength of the will
Sins never ask for excuses
To whom does this come
At what age, at what instance
To whom, what for, where, whence
The jealousy to be charred within
The hatred to be buried within
The greed to be lifeless within
The pride to be feared within
Sins just sashay to slay gentle soul
Through that creaky rude back door
Time tested truths - not to let these in
Yet sins never asks for excuses
They enter against unaware soul’s will
Wake up to it, Now, close that door
Turn towards light, God has said:
“Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”
As Freshly Laundered Linens
Secured By Pins On a Back Yard Clothes Line
Airing Out In Daisy Aromatic Breeze
Set to Dry Under The Friendly Not too Hot Sun!
I Sigh, For this is All In My Mind
Sitting on My Granma's Front Porch
In Refuge From the Grueling Rays
Urging Me to Bare My Thoughts and Pen What I'm Thinking
Front Porch Resort, High Noon, Anti Sun Bathing
Dehydrating My Will For any Outdoor Frolicking
I Sigh, For While I Sit In The Shade
Cool Northern Breeze Blithely Tickles Laughing Leaves
Birds Chirping Chapters About Disappearing Honey Bees
Propound Is the Scenery and Serenade
Convenient Atmosphere For Shadow Work In the Shade
I Penned, I Sigh
I Think When I Pen and Pen What I Think
Seated On Granma's Old Wooden Porch Chair
The Chair She Once Sat On, She Ascended and Left Her Earthly Effects Here
I Sigh, Sometimes I Shed a Few Tears
Empty Nested, Time Tested
Constant Gratitude for Granma's Love And Energy Invested
All of Nature Singing A Song I Wish To Remember
Chorus Of Natural Equilibrium And Profound Splendor
I Sigh, Audibly In Silent Relief, Nature's Song Soothing Grief
As the Sun Sets, I Am Soothed, Settled, Nested in Peace.
f
The hour suggests me,
the day re-forms.
No need to talk to the bathroom mirror,
new skin and a new nakedness of features
are obvious.
Time tested
I live out-of-myself,
just a breath away from any former reality.
Though I am changed and still changing,
the light in these eyes are the same.
Follow the time tested path of adepts ~
Renounce oh hermit, all mental concepts
26-February-2023
A time-tested spiritual banking,
Higher and higher one goes in ranking,
Slammed doors sweetly unlocking,
Hindering barriers unblocking…
From the wall one has been flung
And like a bag on a peg hung,
One beautifully bounces off,
Once more cooking better-off
Your trifle not with Malachi 3:10,
God having it written with His Pen;
No chance rubbishing of the injunction,
For whomever must get beyond our junction.
Tithe never is by rude force backed,
Wherefore their payers have often slacked;
Of course, to hellfire straight,
Who even does so late…
As much a robber,
Who could another clobber,
No less, The Shameless Looter,
Who easily turns A Shooter.
The moment we are born…that precious moment when we wake…the hands of Fate take the hourglass filled with the sands of our life and give it a little shake.
And as we take our first breath…in a move time-tested and deft…Fate turns our hourglass over…revealing the amount of sand we have left.
Fate is the only one who knows the amount of sand our hourglass contains…We never get to see it…never have a chance to count how many grains remain…
Fate is the only one who knows how large our hourglass is…how wide…how far-reaching…how tall…Fate is the only one who knows if we are meant to live a long life…or if our hourglass is small.
I imagine our creators hoped, by not telling us the size of our hourglass, we would come to understand…how this life we’re given is to be cherished and not to waste one grain of sand.
I imagine they had hoped we would discover the key to what life is all about….
to live a peaceful,
kind
and loving life…
until our sand runs out.
I see wonder wherever I look,
be it the sea or a babbling brook.
Decoding Mother Nature's handbook,
Time scribes Her secrets in its scrapbook
cataloging every niche and nook.
I need but gaze at a starry sky
or hear the honks of guess flying by
to appreciate Earth; I oft sigh,
picturing sunsets in my mind's eye.
All colors of the rainbow adorn
Gaia's landscapes, time-tested and worn,
enriching our world from rose to thorn.
And when a sea of stars starts to pool,
Luna's moon glimmers, like a jewel.
Our planet's a blue marble in space.
Earth's gifts are easy to overlook,
I aim to see them, or at least try.
And when I do, I oft feel reborn,
realizing that only a fool
would not be wonderstruck by this place.
Neither sages nor seers
No preachers or peers,
Time teaches best.
Neither prayers nor potions
No pills or lotions,
Time heals best.
Neither care nor compassion
No penance or pardon,
Time mends best.
Neither fate nor fortune
No blessings or boon,
Time favors best.
Neither passion nor patience
No revolt or reverence,
Time subdues best.
Neither sword nor sorcery
No death or destiny,
Time vanquishes best.
~Contest: "T" (Time)
~Sponsor: Constance La France.
hardwood memories
well-rooted, time-tested, safe
~ hiking in mind’s woods
Time waits for nobody
Time in a subjective sense
Time is revolutionary
Time present ,past tense
Time that is treasured
Time that is well invested
Time measured
Time tested
Time is of the essence
Time and space
Time bares reference
Time a particular place
Time is precious
Time to now go
Time is on all of us
Time ZERO!
Again an old write on here just tweeked a little updated
Having a moment of reflection at time..
As the Photograph Dim
David J Walker
There was more color
At one time
Within the wooden frame
Time tested, time faded
Now a struggle with
Each name
And even though the
Dates remain the same
Written in pencil on the back
She lacks enough memory to
Remain within the context
Of the lens
As the photograph dims
I generally mean mine mien mental state
moost occasions heavily marinated stupor
long established as external trait
psychologically time tested trooper
impossible mission to kickstart sanity
doppelgänger regularly revisits his soul asylum
hellbent antimatter he cannot vitiate
despite therapeutic laxative merely exhausts
well bred literate smoking doobie brother
eliminating aforementioned pablum
witnessed courtesy one floundering grouper
among plenty of fish schooled
hyphenated (high finned haggled)
burn hushed scaled poem
courtesy one unionised rebellious party pooper.
Spellbound with colossal mental grippe
(i.e. all-consuming figurative cerebral
obsessive compulsive forced membership)
magnetic resonance imagine indicated jagged blip
and/or nsync microscopy
showed telltale genetic authorship
regarding above stated mental health crisis,
whereby Sigmund Freud analyst did flip
lid freeing leeches imported courtesy Philip
Hansel and Gretel a mere slip
o' lass whose nose she always did turnip.
Taking into account; the Poeter's quip
Shant it be unfurled to reveal thine
Penned and newly coined path of authorship
Paying out the Poeter’s plumb line
Veering from the course
Plotting new wave points
Carting the next rhyme before the horse
Beginning each line with the next conjoint
Taking time to proceed; and dote
Forsaking time tested ways
Remaking each verse concave and connote
Breaking the norm; within this phrase
Plucking the strings of a mental violin
That one trains to adroit and therein
Making each intellectual a rational linchpin.
Each galling ache with steadied prayer dispel.
Let that bland hour bleak with chilling thought
Glow with indelible joys of a yet hoping heart,
And knit such merry smiles as cute angels got.
Hold onto that time-tested unswerving dream
That martyrs' sorrows will just retribution find,
That her sweat and blood and echoed scream,
Shall not unavenged in giddied labyrinths wind.
Often hit by a gloating stare and its acid taints,
Hum within a great carol by famed fallen saints.
In your mean travails attended with dizzying pains,
Trust the holy writ that man’s sorrowing soul trains.
Even as false signs dupe that relief roams far,
May your woe-stoutened faith persist unshorn.
If the only light offs into the lowest horizon-line,
Remember the darkest hour is closest to dawn.
Soon shall the mourning soul’s sobbings cease,
For deepest angst precedes profoundest peace.
Related Poems