Daily Poem - Week 2
October 24, 2012
A small grey house
In a quiet spot,
A dog, a cat, and a garden plot.
Isn't much,
But it's my ideal.
Dreamy planning
(Nothing real).
A small grey house
With brooding pines
Where I can sit and make my lines.
October 25, 2012
Fearful captives,
Laboring in chains.
A groaning Earth,
Soaked through with bloody stains.
All creation...I must set it free?
No, not my strength,
But that of Him in me.
The power to restore,
Refresh, renew.
To shape the twisted paths
And make them true.
The power to redeem
A human soul -
To heal a heart and make it
Truly whole -
It comes,
Not from my hand, but from above.
And I am nothing...
A mere conduit of love.
Inspiration, once she comes in and sits down, is terribly reluctant to leave.
I need to find
The 'off' switch in my brain -
The one that says
'Quit rhyming
And let me fall asleep!'
This really has nothing to do with my day. I just have these random thoughts...not really sure where they come from...but hey! I think I'm on a roll of fairly decent poetry! I'm doing much better than I did last week. Can I keep this up for four more days???
October 26, 2012
The faithful speak
And lilies bloom
Where all their words
Were trampled in the mud.
October 27, 2012
Christmas shopping early,
When I pretend
I'm organized,
And that this mindless spending
Is actually worthwhile.
Materialism central...
Why am I even here?
When I don't need a thing,
And nor (I think) do you...
Let's give our time
To Jesus
And stop caring
What these other people think.
---------
Little cats come running
With poker tails up straight,
Delicately bounding,
Nothing quite as cunning
A bunch of wee cats running
With poker tails up straight.
No more rhymes now! I mean it! Why does my ability to rhyme desert me like this? Dear Rhyming Genius, what did I ever to do to deserve this treatment?
Actually, that was a very silly question. I'd rather you didn't answer.
October 28, 2012
Today will be
A poem day!
I'll grab a pen
And write and write!
I'll sit here by the
Cozy flame
And read while I
Prepare to write.
A clicking stove,
A sluggish plot,
A wakeful night
Upon my eyes.
A sinking flame,
A closing book,
And drowsy lips
That murmur
'Write...'
October 29, 2012
Grey and shaking,
Earth stands bare
In Winter's teeth.
Stripped of modest green,
The sycamore is pale and stark,
A skeleton of Summer grace.
Hide your eyes!
This decimation
Is no holy thing...
Sing the trees to sleep,
Awake the wind
And feel
the cold
come
hunting.
Hey, look! The rhyme came back for my last day!
October 30, 2012
The sun comes up
And clothes the wood
With light.
My heart rejoices
At the
Golden sight.
A small grey house
In a quiet spot,
A dog, a cat, and a garden plot.
Isn't much,
But it's my ideal.
Dreamy planning
(Nothing real).
A small grey house
With brooding pines
Where I can sit and make my lines.
October 25, 2012
Fearful captives,
Laboring in chains.
A groaning Earth,
Soaked through with bloody stains.
All creation...I must set it free?
No, not my strength,
But that of Him in me.
The power to restore,
Refresh, renew.
To shape the twisted paths
And make them true.
The power to redeem
A human soul -
To heal a heart and make it
Truly whole -
It comes,
Not from my hand, but from above.
And I am nothing...
A mere conduit of love.
Inspiration, once she comes in and sits down, is terribly reluctant to leave.
I need to find
The 'off' switch in my brain -
The one that says
'Quit rhyming
And let me fall asleep!'
This really has nothing to do with my day. I just have these random thoughts...not really sure where they come from...but hey! I think I'm on a roll of fairly decent poetry! I'm doing much better than I did last week. Can I keep this up for four more days???
October 26, 2012
The faithful speak
And lilies bloom
Where all their words
Were trampled in the mud.
October 27, 2012
Christmas shopping early,
When I pretend
I'm organized,
And that this mindless spending
Is actually worthwhile.
Materialism central...
Why am I even here?
When I don't need a thing,
And nor (I think) do you...
Let's give our time
To Jesus
And stop caring
What these other people think.
---------
Little cats come running
With poker tails up straight,
Delicately bounding,
Nothing quite as cunning
A bunch of wee cats running
With poker tails up straight.
No more rhymes now! I mean it! Why does my ability to rhyme desert me like this? Dear Rhyming Genius, what did I ever to do to deserve this treatment?
Actually, that was a very silly question. I'd rather you didn't answer.
October 28, 2012
Today will be
A poem day!
I'll grab a pen
And write and write!
I'll sit here by the
Cozy flame
And read while I
Prepare to write.
A clicking stove,
A sluggish plot,
A wakeful night
Upon my eyes.
A sinking flame,
A closing book,
And drowsy lips
That murmur
'Write...'
October 29, 2012
Grey and shaking,
Earth stands bare
In Winter's teeth.
Stripped of modest green,
The sycamore is pale and stark,
A skeleton of Summer grace.
Hide your eyes!
This decimation
Is no holy thing...
Sing the trees to sleep,
Awake the wind
And feel
the cold
come
hunting.
Hey, look! The rhyme came back for my last day!
October 30, 2012
The sun comes up
And clothes the wood
With light.
My heart rejoices
At the
Golden sight.
Janie,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoy reading these--rough or not. It's just fun to see how your mind works.
I really admire Oct. 25th's poem. Were you thinking of Rom. 8:18-25? I've been thinking about that passage a lot lately, and you've captured it.
And Oct 28th's--I'm not sure if this is how you meant it--but it sounded to me like a lot of my days. Beginning of the day: "This is going to be a great day! I think I'll plan all the things I'm going to accomplish today... while I'm reading." End of the day: falling asleep over my book "I need to get something done before this day is over."
Keep it up!
Kayla McK
Thanks for your comment! Can't say that I based poem 2 off of any passage in particular...just some thoughts I was having, and decided to sit down and make a rhyme out of them.
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