Like a child lost among many,
Panic has paralyzed your attempts to progress.
Refusing to accept help from any,
Loneliness has led to regress.
For the beginning never happened,
Only in your troubled mind.
And the end did happen,
As your love closed and left you blind.
Because your feet stay planted in concrete,
Her storm-swept heart has lost its purpose;
And as you run from all that’s sweet,
Left remains: a leaky skiff; a withered rose.
Had you seen the truth, told no lies,
She may have fought to feed your guise;
A rescued stray whom you played,
But she was no child to your dismay.
Shatter into pieces your brutal past;
Reclaim that black pearl buried in the beach,
For once removed, your bitter cast,
You will find love within your reach.
Daily Archives: February 26, 2014
I was a gorging caterpillar Consuming everything I could;
It was my nature, I knew no better, To me, it just seemed so good.
Then shame struck me and in searing pain I cocooned myself away from sight;
And in that shell You dealt with me ‘Til I was ready to return to the light.
Now I’m reborn a beloved butterfly Crafted with detail and engaging flair,
Painted with love by Your master hand, Molded with Masterly care.
As I flap my wings Who knows what effect You will impart through me?
Creating simple ripples, Affecting complex lives, Of people I may never see.
All glory to You, Whose perfect plan Finds a way to use unworthy me!
What an amazing God, Loving Father and guide,
Who heard my voiceless plaintive plea.
There is a Reaper, whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.
“Shall I have naught that is fair?” Saith he;
“Having naught but the bearded grain?
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
I will give them all back again,”
He gazed at the flowers with tearful eye,
He kissed their drooping leaves;
It was for the Lord of Paradise
He bound them in his sheaves.
“My Lord has need of these floweretsgay,”
The Reaper said, and smiled:
“Dear tokens of the earth are they,
Where he was once a child.”
“They shall all bloom in fields of light,
Transplanted by my care,
And saints, upon their garments white,
These sacred blossoms wear.”
And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love:
She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.
O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
‘Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
YOUR FAVOURITE POEM SENT IN BY YOU
With a rush, I blush;
His black, curly hair I brush;
No, it’s not a crush;
Still, I won’t gush;
I speak with a hush;
And I communicate with touch,
For in love there’s no need to rush.
The disbelief it’s happened,
The anger and despair,
To be taken away is a mystery,
For the grief is hard to bear.
Turning it over in your mind,
Of the things that were said,
I am living in an unreal world,
Now that you are dead.
If only I could touch you,
To feel the warm of your heart,
It would ease the pain I am feeling,
Now that we are far apart.
If there are answers to these feelings,
Then I would like to know,
Does life end within the grave,
If not, were do our loved ones go.
My child you are feeling,
The pain from the bond of love,
You are experiencing the separation,
To the spirit world above.
You have only lost the material,
The bond of love will remain,
Nothing can separate what you created,
For you will be together again.
It will take time for you to settle,
For the hurt and pain to cease,
Remember I shall always be near you,
To give you everlasting peace.
I am not all that far away,
We are not that far apart,
Look in a different direction,
Send your feeling from within your heart.
All the thoughts you have sent I’ve received,
I will see you through darkness and despair,
I shall watch over you and the family,
And join in the experience that you share.
We shall all have a joyful reunion,
The moment you receive that call,
In the mean time enjoy your life,
As a place I shall prepare for you all,
Malcolm G Bradshaw