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Sorry double post.
Just in the haiku mood (laugh)
Poetic ramble
Do I do haiku?
So simple syllables are
This art's secret sword
Therefore praise the Lord
Let me write you something good
Small story but sweet
A woman petite
A loose friend's middle aged mother
Sick when I met her
X-ers party, smoker
Yet she weep for her children
And much loves Jesus
A hug and some love
And the next I hear tale of
She is critical
In the hospital
What they call emphysema
Not good rumors say
Therefore I must pray
That no matter what God's will
Shall always be done
Later her flesh son
Say, that his mom recovered
She's well. Praise Jesus
Just in the haiku mood (laugh)
Poetic ramble
Do I do haiku?
So simple syllables are
This art's secret sword
Therefore praise the Lord
Let me write you something good
Small story but sweet
A woman petite
A loose friend's middle aged mother
Sick when I met her
X-ers party, smoker
Yet she weep for her children
And much loves Jesus
A hug and some love
And the next I hear tale of
She is critical
In the hospital
What they call emphysema
Not good rumors say
Therefore I must pray
That no matter what God's will
Shall always be done
Later her flesh son
Say, that his mom recovered
She's well. Praise Jesus
Breaking silence, her
voice, quiet hope to create
in her a pure heart.
Lullabies soothing
her angel hums, sings, cooing;
Preciously she sleeps.
Dreams of Heaven’s gates.
The warm morning music wakes.
Then she comes alive.
Spirit waves she knows.
Wraps melodies with laced bow;
gifts that leap and spin.
Sweet forehead kisses,
sweet dandelion wishes-
little things she loves.
In love every day
she falls, delights in the Way,
knowing Love Himself.
Knows her violin
sings her body from within;
her gifts from Heaven.
Sweet cider sips she,
warm, fuzzy inside, with glee;
smiles shine on her face.
Noon’s sun in her hair,
wind, warmth, breeze away her cares;
outside she is born.
A meadow green, bright.
Making good from bad, she writes;
pretty she makes it.
Pictures clear she takes:
leaves on trees, fog, hills, rocks, lakes;
brings the world her joy.
Evening; the sky dims.
Savory sweet, feeds her whims,
aliments her soul.
Underfoot, Earth silk
turns to wood. She sips warm milk.
She names her blanket
“Night”; still, quietly,
heart whispers of her day. She
appreciates it.
Breaking silence, her
voice, quiet hope to create
in her a pure heart.
Lullabies soothing
her angel hums, sings, cooing;
Preciously she sleeps.
voice, quiet hope to create
in her a pure heart.
Lullabies soothing
her angel hums, sings, cooing;
Preciously she sleeps.
Dreams of Heaven’s gates.
The warm morning music wakes.
Then she comes alive.
Spirit waves she knows.
Wraps melodies with laced bow;
gifts that leap and spin.
Sweet forehead kisses,
sweet dandelion wishes-
little things she loves.
In love every day
she falls, delights in the Way,
knowing Love Himself.
Knows her violin
sings her body from within;
her gifts from Heaven.
Sweet cider sips she,
warm, fuzzy inside, with glee;
smiles shine on her face.
Noon’s sun in her hair,
wind, warmth, breeze away her cares;
outside she is born.
A meadow green, bright.
Making good from bad, she writes;
pretty she makes it.
Pictures clear she takes:
leaves on trees, fog, hills, rocks, lakes;
brings the world her joy.
Evening; the sky dims.
Savory sweet, feeds her whims,
aliments her soul.
Underfoot, Earth silk
turns to wood. She sips warm milk.
She names her blanket
“Night”; still, quietly,
heart whispers of her day. She
appreciates it.
Breaking silence, her
voice, quiet hope to create
in her a pure heart.
Lullabies soothing
her angel hums, sings, cooing;
Preciously she sleeps.
