Claire V. Bogdanos

Acceptance,Knowledge,Love,New Chapter,Process,Wisdom,

TO THE LEAST ( 2019 ) 2019/11/03

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 10:18 am
Tags: , , , , ,

All  creatures  lives are full of fear

As  they survive  from year to year

Some lifetimes  that they  share  are cruel

Still  their love  sparkles  like a jewel.

While  all  the legacy  we leave

Are  what we’ve  said or do  believe

The  animals can’t  speak their mind

But  truer love  this world won’t  find.

How  sad that  few may  chance  endure

To  cruelty  there is  no cure

Beg  God  protect each simple beast

From  giant-sized  down to the least !

 

 

 

 

 

 

GOD’S COMMAND ( 2018 ) 2018/10/14

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:55 am
Tags: , , , , ,

The stars that shine across the sky

All glow so bright when passing by

I wonder if God’s angels see

His patterns and diversity  ?

Do angels go to sleep at night

And waken to the morning’s light

Or do they fall asleep at all

While awaiting God’s beck and call  ?

This universe is God’s command

He rules it all with heart in hand !

 

LOST AND FOUND ( 2007 ) 2016/12/26

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:42 am
Tags: , , , , ,

I love the spring I love the fall

I love God’s word above else all,

The mountains that do rise so high

With many that reach for the sky

 

The valleys that engender rain

The hills that stretch across the plain,

The oceans and the seas so deep

These are provisions we need keep

 

A sultry storm, the desert heat

Fields that produce the food we eat,

The forests that protect the home

Where creatures live and breed and roam

 

This is the world we can’t replace

God gifts to us our lives to grace,

Tis strange how oft we lose our way

Yet manage still to greet the day !

 

LOST THIS YEARS AGO, NEVER PUBLISHED BEFORE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ECHOES ( 2015 ) 2015/08/25

Filed under: POEMS.....THOUGHTS.....MEMORIES — bogdanosclaire @ 3:01 am
Tags: , , ,

There is small consolation here

Among the bones all crushed and sere

The dead are much like ground-up dust

They cease to be as we all must.

 

 
%d bloggers like this: