Catching Lines and Building Rhymes

Tags

narrative poem, poem about writing poems

Flights of fancy fill my mind with stories
Unbridled from the ordinary day’s
Telling poured out from this life’s glories.
Untrained to wait quietly, they light the
Realm of word patterns dancing from my pen;
Easel of colorful delight they spin.
Poetic vistas they paint, offering
Oasis for a time, and so I must
Embrace them and again begin writing.
This gives me unexpected joy, and the
Lone words find a home, dancing from my pen
And telling their news like young children
Unconditionally babbling on
Rivers: building sand castles of words.
Each one laughs and joyfully carries on,
Appeasing my hunger for rhymes, and the
Towers quickly rise, dancing from my pen:
Each knows I’ll gladly do it all again.

by Gwennon
July 22, 2018

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So Badly In Tune

Tags

acrostic poem, pain, prayer, spiritual warfare

Well, here I am with some old, unhealed scars,
Intent on never having to endure
Things that hurt my heart again, keeping scores
Hidden but active, remaining quite sure
That I should not have to put up with this
Harassing irritant any more. So
Each new time I face it, whatever bliss
Formerly filling my heart turns to go.
Lusting for escape, I’m drinking distress
And wondering if it will ever end
Waging war on my fragile, crumbling peace,
Shot all to pieces, devoid of defense.
Opening painful wounds that make me cry.
Focus fixing firmly on my offense:
Overwhelming offense keeps piling high:
This thing is impossible to dismiss.
How can I change myself from this critic
Engaged zealously in finding those flaws
Resuscitating my angst, sharp cynic
Shouldering endless offense without cause?

by Gwennon
June 8, 2018

My friend Lucille, one of the spiritual giants in my life, tells me that what has been happening here is spiritual warfare “pure and simple” and that I must resist it and then the devil will flee from me. With that in mind, I have been praying for God to deliver me from a judgmental spirit, and I will be meditating upon Psalm 119:65 “Great peace have they which love thy law: and nothing shall offend them” and Psalm 35:1 “Plead my cause, O LORD, with them that strive with me: fight against them that fight against me.”

I know that probably none of you struggle with these things. But on the off chance that you do, please pray for me. And tell me how I can pray for you.

Jesus Already

Tags

acrostic, acrostic poem, Acrostic Quasi-Villanelle, Christian walk, God, healing through Jesus, Jesus, lasting peace, pain, painful memories, peace, peace with Jesus, Quasi-Villanelle, regret, sin, the blood of Jesus, the cost of sin, trusting God, truth, Villanelle

Those ugly memories refuse to fade,
Offending me again with my old sin—
OLD NEWS: Through Jesus’ blood, it’s all been paid.
Kind, loving gift on which my hopes are stayed.
Christ knew ahead of time about my sin
And ugliness that does not want to fade.
Remembering the love that He conveyed
Expels the worries that build up within:
One and all through Jesus’ blood has been paid.
Full payment for my sins my LORD has made.
The awful price need not be paid again.
Harsh memories can shrink and start to fade.
Accepting God’s sweet gift, I am remade.
The old no more defines the new within.
Forgiven fully: through Christ’s blood, all was paid.
Oppressive thoughts that wield Regret’s sharp blade,
Remove yourselves! God’s healing has come in.
My memories that once refused to fade?
Each one through Jesus’ blood was fully paid.

by Gwennon
June 25, 2018

And, oh, what a relief it is!

Unsteady

Tags

discontent, God, love

My heart is swayed by shiny things:
Attentive smiles and flatterings.
LORD, plant my heart in things above,
And hold me steady in Your love.

by Gwennon
July 11, 2016

The Smell of Rain

Tags

acrostic poem, acrostic sonnet, joy, rain, sonnet

My heart rejoices at this smell,
Announcing good things are to come:
Killed out the drought we knew too well,
Engaged the drops that windows drum.
Surrounded by the clouds we prayed
Might come, we find our hopes renewed.
Enriched by water, fears allayed:
Sure sign the dry spell is subdued.
Oh, Rain, you fall a welcome gift!
How much more welcome than you know:
Around these parts our spirits lift,
Provided you make crops to grow:
Provided you make crops to grow,
You’re much more welcome that you know.

by Gwennon
June 9, 2018

When I showed this poem to my friend Gail, she said, “Now that we are in such a dry place, rain is not the nuisance it used to be in other places. – I wonder that other blessings we receive that we are not seeing at the time.”

If you want to pray for us for rain, that would not hurt our feelings at all. Thank you.

Whole, At Last

Tags

acrostic, acrostic daffodil, acrostic poem, daffodil, God, healing, heaven, Jesus, joy, pain

I think about the joys that are waiting,
Not here yet, but calling our names. Calling,
“Hey! Get ready! Something great is coming:
Expect better things than you have yet known!”
And all who have any pain will be healed.
Volumes of God’s good plans will be revealed.
Everyone who accepts God will be blessed.
Nowhere in God’s home will sorrow remain.
Where every joy pours freely from God’s heart
Into those who accept His love, we know
That those whose wounds are still raw will be healed.
Heaven’s purpose for pain will be revealed.
Cherishing all our tears, Jesus welcomes
Home all who are His own: those He loves who
Really do love Him in return, and then,
Incredibly, all who move there will see
Scars and wounds that plagued our lives, fully healed,
Transformed, and through these, future joys revealed.

for Bethany

by Gwennon
June 1, 2018

For a slightly more complete picture of Heaven, I would like to refer you to Scot McKnight’s excellent book, The Heaven Promise. I have so enjoyed it, and pray you may as well.

Some of my longer-term readers may be aware that I have coined a phrase for one of my poetry templates that I call a daffodil, basing it loosely on William Wordsworth’s poem “The Daffodils”. In this latest iteration of my daffodils, only EE repeating rhyming lines show up, though the six-line pattern remains. Though we do not begin with the normal ABAB, etc. rhyme schemes, I think this fits the message of this poem well because the greatly uncharted rhyme scheme fits well with what we don’t know about Heaven, if that makes any sense. Anyway, I hope you will have enjoyed dreaming with me of the joys of Heaven and the goodness of God.

When My Eyes Began to Open

Tags

Christian walk, freedom, God, Jesus, stanza'd poems

Here I lay my idol down
Since I see I do not need it.
It lies dying on the ground,
And henceforth I will not feed it.
It had never served me well:
Made demands that were unruly.
Though I honored it each day,
Its design was just to fool me.
So, I’ll lay this idol down,
And no more will I embrace it.
Though it paints in colors bright,
I no longer have to face it,
Or adopt its deadly songs
Of old dreams that could not save me.
How it overflowed with wrongs!
But these Jesus has forgave me.
So, I lay my idol down
As I turn my heart to Jesus.
With a smile and not a frown,
From these deadly things He frees us.

by Gwennon
May 20, 2018

And Who Might We Be

Tags

acrostic, acrostic poems, criticism, God, Jesus, pain

Without their close scrutiny chasing us down,
It’s hard to imagine just who we might be.
Though truly their actions are making us frown,
Herein lie hard truths of what outsiders see.
Oh, help us to listen, oh help us to heed
Unwanted opinions on how we now live.
These insights they share may be just what we need.
Outspoken, unfeeling: such hard gifts they give!
Unless we are teachable, these may be lost.
Regarded, they may help us open our eyes.
Defamed though we feel, image comes at a cost,
Entangling those who refuse to be wise.
Then let us embrace these hard gifts as they come.
Redeeming their sorrows, let’s learn to forgive.
As Jesus has said, we can please only some:
Committed to God, it’s for Him we should live.
The ones universally praised live life wrong:
Offending our Savior is our only care.
Remember our God sees our worth. We belong
Standing firm by His side, and He welcomes us there.

by Gwennon
May 16, 2018

for Meghan, for Ruth, and in recent minutes, for Haden

Hurting Lie and Healing Truth

Tags

God, Jesus, pain, stanza'd poems, words

“Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words will never hurt me!”
This lie is heard around the world
When wounded hearts are hurting.

We chant it to calm down our souls
When enemies are blurting
Those painful words that pinch and stab:
We want to stop the hurting.

But truly words can wound so deep
The wounded find no healing
From painful words that careless souls
Cast out without kind feeling.

Let’s turn to God to heal our hearts
When painful, mean words find us.
When words deliver worlds of hurt,
I pray these words remind us:

“While sticks and stones are breaking bones,
And unkind words may hurt me,
Jesus has come to heal my heart
When other friends desert me.”

by Gwennon
May 24, 2018

An Open Invitation

Tags

acrostic, acrostic poems, animal poems, animals, humor, rabbits

 

Bunnies needed now to eat down our weeds:
Rich harvest, well-watered, ready to serve.
It would help if you could hurry! Indeed,
Now would be the best time, and you deserve
Good, all-natural greens to build your health!
Everyone who’s anybunny should be
Voraciously chowing down on our green wealth,
Expunging the yard of all the weeds you see.
Rid, rid the yard of each unwanted weed!!
You know you need to eat anyway; so
Of course, we’ll let you have all you need.
Necessary nutrients you need grow
Endlessly, expanding their territory
Yet further and further day by day.
Only you and yours can help us, and we
Urge you, Dears, to render aid right away:
Kindly destroy every weed in the place.
No weed here will be off limits for you.
Our yard’s at your disposal: every place
Where you see weeds. So, see what you can do!

by Gwennon
May 16, 2018

One of the neighbors happened to tell one of the wild rabbits in the yard that it needed to invite all its friends over to eat down the weeds. “Bring everyone you know!” he urged. The bunny hopped off. Not sure he understood the invitation.