Home » Poems » Best » Crista Gorman » Best Crista Gorman Poems

Best Poems Written by Crista Gorman

Below are the all-time best Crista Gorman poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

Hold Fast My Heart

He baptized my heart with Holy water,
   Rivers pure and clean.
He has set my feet upon the rock,
 With a measure of faith in things unseen.

Like the hands of moses lifted high,
 I will call upon him, he will hear my cry.
If I should stumble, he will break the fall,
 his arms are stretched to reach us all.

I love you Jesus from my heart,
 because you loved me first.
You meet my every need,
 and quench my every thirst!

Hold fast my heart to the one
 who gave his life for me,
Rejoice because he has loosed the chains,
 and set this captive free!

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

Pruning

To awake the spiritual eyes in me,
I must die to myself, though unnatural it be.
 Wake up soul, and see with new eyes,
how something lives why'll something dies.

 Prune now my heart from bitter thorns.
Blow the trumpet, sound the horns!
 Death to my will, my heart I give,
to the one who died so that I might live.

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

A Dream

Once upon a time, a dream was a dream.
locked up in my mind, left cold and unseen.
Years have passed many a moon,
night-n-gales whistled many a tune.

...and the stars swing low through the midnight glow
...and the angel sings as she folds her wings
...and all these memories draw back these dreams.

Some of new and some of old,
some of coals and some of gold.
The work, the play of each new day,
The sun that sparkles or the clouds of gray.
Who knew that dreams come when you pray?

From the first breath to the last breath,
and the ones in between
bring you lines of joy
like the sweet wine that is aging.

My maker says "reason" with me,
 He has called me out by name.
Leading me where there is no sorrow,
brining me home where there is no pain.

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

His Banner

When lives are broken and worlds fall apart,
there is a healer and restorer of the wounded heart.

When you carry your burdens well into the night,
 his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

If you call on his name, he will be there,
 he will lighten the load if your willing to share.

It is not by power, it not by might..
 it is by his spirit you will win this fight.

The battle is his, he knows what to do,
 and Love is his banner over you.

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

Be Still

I stumbled, I cried
  there was a raging storm inside.
 And then he spoke,
   "Peace be still"
He broke the yoke and I heard him.
  "Peace be still"...and he spoke. He spoke.

 "Peace be still"
The raging storm, it yields to his will.
 His words breath life
 he said "Peace be still".

 The storm is quiet and fast asleep,
   it lies dormant beneath my feet.
 The waves were crashing,
   I was about to break.
 But he spoke "Peace be still",
 ...and thats all it did take.

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

Fleeting Rose

The wind whispers secrets of time.
   Time that passes as swiftly as the whispering wind.

 Who gazes at the desert rose?
  ..with its fleeting beauty and it's unique pose
 ...the day it was born, the day it goes?

 He who lines the stars in place,
  He knows each name, He knows each face.
And the wind whispers once and its gone forever.
 Forever, the desert rose sleeps.
  Alas, as it's starry audience weeps.

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

A Queen In the Peasant

If I were a peasant girl,
   ...would you over look it?

If I were a queen with elegance,
 ..would you love me more?

  If I were a peasant girl,
    ...would you love me more?

 If I were a queen in a peasants body,
  ...would you recognize my love?

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

My Recollection

They heard the shrillness of my cry,
So they ran to the door with tear stained cheeks.
 No knowledge of the blood stained wall,
 No knowledge of what happened at all.

 And I with my loss of recollection,
in the pool of red where my fingers bled.

 Now the white wall is crimson,
  and the blood flows from my twisted nose
free out the window my assaulter goes.

 Still the mirror is in its place
a reminder that I survived, we nod.
 A reminder that we're alive,
  preserved by God.

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

To Me He Is

Teacher of my heart
   Soother of my wounds
Rock of my salvation
 Faithful guide
     Lifter of my head

...whom shall I compare to you?
Elroi. He sees my pain.

 Deliverer of my troubles.

Details | Crista Gorman Poem

The Art of Humility

Lord, open the eyes of my heart to see
  the art of true humility.
Untie the cords of anger and pride,
 and all that weighs me down inside.
Let me be humble so the world can see
 Jesus who resides in me.