"A child, a child" ... the excited shepherds cried,
In the
streets of a cool winter’s morn.
Of a shining light, they spoke,
in trembling words,
And angels singing praise from the
heavens.
The Watchman....
The end draweth near, the watchman
cries,
yet the trump has yet to
sound.
The enemy rages, to devour what he will,
as the faithful dwindles down.
We
stand at the brink of the very last day,
so few to heed the criers dark words,
as he laments
the loss of man.
The upward road to the hangman's tree,
lined with vile
puppets, the enemy brings
spitting their
taunts on persecutions way.
Here ends the grouping of poems I have titled "The Fall, a song of love." It follows from the moment of creation to the casting out of man from the Garden. It is also the beginning of the poetry book entitled "The Message of God."
From here will be poetry and snippit short stories following the rest of the bible in order, I hope all will enjoy the writings and be blessed even as I when putting them down on paper.
The Scent of a Tear's Fall.
Standing in the early morning
mist,
As the sun first breaks the horizon,
The fog glowing
with a golden haze.
A slight breeze stirring the morning airs,
Life renewing each moment in time,
as a scent on a gentle
wind.
In Another's Eyes
From the rising of the sun, you are
blessed.
The dawning of the first day, you were made joyful.
You sang of your joy with the birds of the morning,
Stretched
out your hand, with love, at the first rose,
Gentle as the petals
you cupped it your hand,
to smell the sweet
scent of the day.
Thy light shines not in my darkest moment,
in the
lost hour of my darkened heart.
My heart is lost in the depth of
the world's darkness,
but lifted up by Thy glory.
With the way Man is these days it make me wonder... How far off is God's final Judgement.
There to ponder man's simple way,
God looked down from His
throne in dismay.
For there was man all gathered as a race,
Seeking in the world to make himself a place.
Calling out loud
in one single voice,
Making many plans as to follow whose
choice,
That would reach beyond their simple means,
And
stand with God in the heavenly scene.
Standing in tears of His pain and sorrow,
As He views a far
off day yet to come.
Viewing the shadow chased out of His
vision, Of the taunting words of man to be spoken,
Of a tree far
away, with blood drops falling.
Soon Have You Wept
Oh, for the Spring of your lives, My
beloved,
Children that walk joyful in the morning.
To turn
from the last moment of the day’s ending,
Back to the first
morning, as the eye is opened.
So soon have you wept, as joy
turned to sorrow,
A day, or a year, but a moment from
eternity.
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He had just turned eight years old, she was only six.
Sitting
on the front porch swing, stole his first kiss.
They had laughed
at their siblings, sweet words, cute names,
Secret smiles and
lovey eyes, clowns just the same.
Those two on the porch swing,
friends from the quick.
Her smile had gotten to him, he just
couldn't resist.
She gasped in fright, eyes wide, he laughed at
the site.
Punched him on the shoulder, he knew he'd been
right.
My Beloved Child
With joy I formed thee, My beloved,
Though tears were mixed in the dust.
Tears of sorrow at the
paths you would trod,
And joy for the good you would bring.
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