Poem/Song

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GWH

Groovy
Oct 19, 2024
999
278
63
#1
“Until Set Free”

Sound of feet along the street,
Shadows everywhere,
And through the night a ray of light
Reveals a lady fair.
So fine is she, for all can see
The jewels in her hair.

Lovely dress and all the rest
Are priceless to be sure,
For what the cost when love she lost
And cannot buy a cure.
The heart when sold for want of gold
Can never more be pure.

For the warmth she needs, her hunger feeds
Upon the lips of men.
They praise her face and pretty lace,
And they even praise her sin.
They call her good and wish she would
Allow them to come in.

On a fateful day she walked away
From what she would not be.
Now the one who would have done her good
She never more will see.
For the choice she made a price she paid
Until she is set free.
 

GWH

Groovy
Oct 19, 2024
999
278
63
#2
“Until Set Free”

Sound of feet along the street,
Shadows everywhere,
And through the night a ray of light
Reveals a lady fair.
So fine is she, for all can see
The jewels in her hair.

Lovely dress and all the rest
Are priceless to be sure,
For what the cost when love she lost
And cannot buy a cure.
The heart when sold for want of gold
Can never more be pure.

For the warmth she needs, her hunger feeds
Upon the lips of men.
They praise her face and pretty lace,
And they even praise her sin.
They call her good and wish she would
Allow them to come in.

On a fateful day she walked away
From what she would not be.
Now the one who would have done her good
She never more will see.
For the choice she made a price she paid
Until she is set free.

I welcome comments about my poems/songs, whether about techniques or message. Here is another one for you.

“Ode to Eden”

Before you came I was swallowed by caverns of darkness.
Hiding from reality, I did not even seek a reason to live.
Lips so silent, but eyes so wild,
My insides were ripped into pieces of fire.
Flames formed one torch,
Troubled waters came to rest in your smile.

Have you ever dreamed ten thousand times?
Loud, but shy, you laugh and stare,
Wanting to talk with someone who cares,
Not just to be one of the crowd.

Many so wise told of glory in smoke and in tablets.
Dreams freer than peace of mind, hell had my soul.
Then one night in the clouds I breathed,
Your hand cooled my head, woke me from the dead.
And I turned from a sunless freedom to fight
For love seasoned with sweat and trued with tears.

Through the clouds of death,
I see you standing there;
I kiss your shining hair;
You lead me to a hidden garden
Full of flowers, where
Touching, we tremble all over
In wonder at the power of God's love.
 

GWH

Groovy
Oct 19, 2024
999
278
63
#3
My next poem/song might be considered in the context of John 8:42-47 as an answer to the question at the end.

“Wouldn’t It Be Fine?”

Wouldn’t it be fine if we made time
To sing a song for everyone.
But men are dif; its one big if.

Wouldn’t it be good if someone would
Make one world from every word.
A book so nice would be worth reading twice.

If I chose the perfect dance,
Would you walk with me for long
Or long for some new way to move?

Wouldn’t it be fine if passing near
The king of chaos were to hear
The sound from earth of one good time?

If the world went simply round
With purring sound, I think we could
See good from wrong and sing one song.

A trio rhymes in harmony
Like rivers flowing to the sea.
If love is such a happy tune
Everyone should soon sing along
But what’s wrong with you and me?
 

GWH

Groovy
Oct 19, 2024
999
278
63
#4
[My final contribution. I had hoped others would post poems they had composed.]

“Late Last Night”

Late last night a young girl dreamed
Her love would grow forever,
Then a wise man, who from ages long ago seemed
Took her to a state of never-never,
And he told her everything he’d learned,
Taught her how the silver cord to sever,
But they stumbled and fell into hell.

Every song has now been sung,
The last wedding bell has long since rung,
And the prisoners have all been hung.
There is nothing more to create,
The universe is man’s estate,
The name of it is hate.

There is no new game to try,
No new name to love or cry,
No reason to laugh or die.
No new dreams are born within,
And all that will ever be has been.
There’s no new way to sin.

Each of us is god and so
There is nothing more to know,
No new place to go,
Not even in your mind,
For that was left behind.

Late last night a madman died,
An obvious case of suicide
So they laughed at his graveside,
Saying, “What’s the use to be blue?
There’s nothing that we could do.
Thank God that he’s dead, too!

For the last rites have been said,
The prophets are now all dead,
And their gravestones have not changed to bread.”
But there was a young child,
And a sage with long gray beard,
Who knew Satan’s priest should tell them—warn them
That his spirit had reappeared.

Each of them had seen the light
Flashing far away in the night
To return when the time is right
Some day beyond the end
To start the world spinning again.
 

Cameron143

Well-known member
Mar 1, 2022
19,184
6,605
113
62
#5
[My final contribution. I had hoped others would post poems they had composed.]

“Late Last Night”

Late last night a young girl dreamed
Her love would grow forever,
Then a wise man, who from ages long ago seemed
Took her to a state of never-never,
And he told her everything he’d learned,
Taught her how the silver cord to sever,
But they stumbled and fell into hell.

Every song has now been sung,
The last wedding bell has long since rung,
And the prisoners have all been hung.
There is nothing more to create,
The universe is man’s estate,
The name of it is hate.

There is no new game to try,
No new name to love or cry,
No reason to laugh or die.
No new dreams are born within,
And all that will ever be has been.
There’s no new way to sin.

Each of us is god and so
There is nothing more to know,
No new place to go,
Not even in your mind,
For that was left behind.

Late last night a madman died,
An obvious case of suicide
So they laughed at his graveside,
Saying, “What’s the use to be blue?
There’s nothing that we could do.
Thank God that he’s dead, too!

For the last rites have been said,
The prophets are now all dead,
And their gravestones have not changed to bread.”
But there was a young child,
And a sage with long gray beard,
Who knew Satan’s priest should tell them—warn them
That his spirit had reappeared.

Each of them had seen the light
Flashing far away in the night
To return when the time is right
Some day beyond the end
To start the world spinning again.
Many have already.
 

GWH

Groovy
Oct 19, 2024
999
278
63
#6
Oh yeah, I see that everyone posts their songs on separate threads, which I am just now getting around to reading. I guess it would get unwieldy to combine on one thread--just like the discussions do!