We need to be reminded that God’s love is always there
Along some darkened corridor or up a lonely stair
Or else where on the precipice beyond all cautions call,
How can His help be summoned to protect us from a fall,
It’s with our faith and true repentance and His loving care
That we beg our steadfast God that His angels will be there !
I’ve loved you God since I was small
Because my Nana told me so.
I loved you when I grew quite tall
And heard the stories I now know.
Because she said you did it all
With kindness and a loving heart
And meant the world to heed your call
To love each other from the start.
I wish I’d learned how not to stall
I’ve tried to follow where you go
The path is long most seem to fall
I know, my Nana told me so.
I don’t know what you are thinking
And if it affects my life
Only God knows where your heart is
If it’s filled with peace or strife.
I can pray that you’ll remember
To uplift and aid the weak
Most are the Lord’s helpless children
Lacking voice to beg or speak.
In this life we are mistaken
To believe we’re all alone
No one knows our destination
Is the path of grass or stone?
I can wait another lifetime
Hoping soon to find release
In pursuit of God and wisdom
Seeking His eternal peace.
I’m mesmerized by falling rain
It splatters on my window pane
And sings a tune I need to hear
It sounds like music on my ear,
It means my garden now can thrive
And soon God’s blessings will arrive.
You cannot know the joy I feel
Or how much ache this show will heal,
The beauty that a garden brings
With scented breath on fragile wings,
In truth this vision states somehow
God loves me, thats enough for now!
I believe that the wind is the spirit of God
That carries on its gentle breath a hymn that sings
A song of joy, caressing vibrant hill and sod
To bring us light and bless His smallest happenings.
Oft I have heard a stranger say
That home is but a mile away,
And oft I’ve heard a comic say
That laughter’s but a smile away.
Oft I have heard a suitor say
That love is but a kiss away
And oft I’ve heard the preacher say
That God is just a prayer away.
Oft have I heard the wounded say
That help is but a cry away
And oft I’ve heard a soldier say
Peace is just one battle away.
Oft have I heard an artist say
Achievement’s just a task away
And oft I’ve heard the dying say
Salvation’s but a breath away.
Oft have I heard my own heart say
Tomorrow’s but a day away,
More oft I’ve heard a wiseman say
The truth is but a lie away.
Yellow eye in a crown of white
Boldly laughs as the day dawns bright.
Daisies wild in a garden grow
With petals soft as the drifted snow.
See how they bob in morning’s breeze
Nodding greetings to whom they please.
“ Hi there bee, have a busy day
Kindly be silent brash bluejay!”
A jolly bunch these daisies be
Who’d want for grander company?
The world might much improve itself
If man would seek a diff’rent wealth.
Among the blooms there’s never heard
A lying tongue or unkind word.
In all the fields where daisies breed
There’s always room for one more seed.
Somehow they thrive without complaint
Hardy species bright pictures paint
And gift mankind with brief respite
Indulge his rest with sheer delight.
Boundless joy mute blossoms shower
I’m sure God dwells in each flower.
I’d like to think that heaven’s plowed
With daisies glowing on each cloud.
The poppies in my garden grow with tissue paper arms
Among the weeds they flourish ever bright and without scent
Swaying in the nighttime breeze with somewhat seductive charms,
( Such casual beauty, I query where that fragrance went.)
Each petal appearing etched seeming darker at the rim,
A silken floss, I think it’s spun upon a fairy loom.
When every other blossom nods its head in evening’s dim
I find it odd that poppies never sleep or fold their bloom.
The poppy is a special gift full of artful design
Crafted much like the angel’s wings fluttering as they fly,
Woven and wrought by care and love with pageant in each line
Grafted by some magic skill from God’s greenhouse in the sky.
At mornings there are times when I
Upon my couch, rejected lie,
And ponder o’er the many schemes
That filled my days and were my dreams.
I spied a bird that paused in flight,
He battled not with conscience‘ might.
I climbed a tree that was so tall
And cried because my aims were small.
I heard a song that had no tune
And wished upon some waning moon
To be a bird and restless fly
Against God’s canvas of the sky.
There, seek to find another day
Or mayhaps learn the better way
To fill my life with keener zest,
Perform great deeds before my rest.
I will to you this last reply
To neither question nor deny
That days of man are wasted spent
To wonder where his lifetime went,
Whereas each bird doth leave behind
Abundant seed the rain will find.
Fearful and crushed are those saddened lives
Whose trembling hope pale agony survives
While those I know I cannot change or cure
Must forge their path along some way secure.
I find my life’s been challenged by the lights
And winnowed by the shades of shallow nights
Nights spent alone there wrapt in reverie
Midst lights of wisdom, shades of destiny.
Regarding this I pray my faith’s been sealed
Since many a lost promise has been healed.
While I may grasp this chance of happiness
And conquer all the woes which bar success
I find myself adrift upon a sea
Of senseless waste and hapless energy.
I’m weary of the endless battle now
I long for rest to garner strength somehow
And pray that God will shelter me once more
Ere I shall haste to latch one final door.
In all the obligation that one’s duty brings
Exists some meager wish that sighs and hopes and clings,
There weigh the loss which from the smallest niche inside
Abides with desperation soundly hid by pride.
Still dwells the waning hope that chance yet rages bold
Though wintered in the ort that’s left of growing old.
In manner chaste I find my quiet hours are sown
Within the palest veil of all I’ve ever known
Where image of the past that with distress was wrought
Some untamed soul within the net lies careless caught.
Since unshed tears oft lurk behind the tracing of a smile
Self-contemplation ought display the hushed façade of guile
While quiv’ring hand and timid step by age and time impaired
Mask vestiges of dignity God graciously has spared.
Therese of the Flowers will you help share my load,
May we walk hand in hand by the side of the road?
Can you tarry with me along time’s weary way,
Will you grant me some peace in each troublesome day?
As I bid you good morn, please smile kindly at me
Till my worrisome life in the end is set free.
In the hush of night’s dark when we two softly speak
I sense tears in your eyes and a flush on your cheek.
Oh little Therese as you wait silent and still
I can guess that you’ve tasted life’s cold and death’s chill.
Have pity on me, ease the dull hours of my days
With your sweetest of prayers in the smallest of ways.
Therese of the Flowers help me carry my load
As we walk hand in hand by the side of the road,
You may tarry with me along time’s weary way
Till we rest in God’s arms at the end of His day.
Help me Lord, to understand life’s complexity
Teach me world, to use my mind with dexterity
Lead me faith, to courage tempered with tolerance,
Heal me time, with slow patience born of forbearance
Guide me truth, to wisdom laced with curiosity
Show me wonder, how to feel with deep intensity,
Guard me love, from anger displayed with impudence
Force me heart, to exhibit love shared with prudence.
Oftimes when I am lying at my ease
Upon some chaise as quiet as you please
Along the sandy shore that comforts me
With warming winds beside the restless sea
I contemplate the peace that aging brings
While bearing wisdom on its learned wings.
Asleep beneath the stars and moon above
Under the spell of some enduring love
And there the beauty that I sought and knew
Still shimmered and spun the whole night through
While God Himself seemed to smile on us all
By spreading His blessings both large and small.
The swiftly graying darkly coursing sky
Does play upon my fickle inner eye
And bares a mystery both stark and bold
That speaks to me of long lost dreams untold.
These dreams I thought had flown so far away.
Yet seeming near, had somehow lost their way.
Some fringed and faded shadows left behind
Shedding aged reflection as they unwind
What had once been I recognised anew
And purpose wrought with aim and course so true.
The passion in my heart that won’t decline
A hungry yearning that I can’t define
The dreaming in my mind that cannot fade
A hard decision that I have not made
The longing in my soul that will not wane
A quest for meaning that I’ve failed to gain.
And there among the past that wastes away
Find sad remains of yet another day
One unknown force that placed the founding stone
Has willed this legacy to us alone.
There in the night with truth possessed and sown
Who by their fruits at last shall they be known.
I watched a star and saw it fall,
I felt the wind and heard it call,
I reached for sky and touched a tree,
I spied a bird, it flew past me.
I smelled a bud not yet full grown
I tread the grass the rain had sown.
I wished upon a mountain’s peak
That God might teach my tongue to speak.
I knew my way and yet was lost
I took the time, the risk, the cost,
Still all the laudits I have earned
And all the lessons I have learned
With all the things that I may do
Are much too small and far too few.
The fog slips in like a shroud eclipsing the panorama
of the mountain’s sides
Where life is as a winging that must soar above the pall
or suffer all it hides.
Some context of this vast unchartered wilderness which
is the confines of my heart
And breeches o’er those valleys, there within the depths
of ignorance that was my start,
Has brought to me upon its beaten breast a shallow
consciousness of what I am
That whistles on the winds of plains wherein reside both
king of beasts and gentle lamb.
There time itself will bare the seed that lives with joy
or dies alone in discontent
As it fulfills an aim that is the longing of the soul or
of the mind, intent.
To move with space and wander in its bright expanse
beneath the sky where mood began
There, confirming this great world is an elegant cushion
for the footfalls of man
And as such must cradle his intense wish to dream and
hope and love and laugh and cry,
For man without one dream is a garden that never blooms
and does not wonder why.
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Claire V. Bogdanos 