Quite a few years ago, while living in Atlanta, I wrote down the words to this song. As I can not play an instrument or sing well, it has remained as a poem. If anyone would like to place the tune and make this a song, I would be pleased to no end.

Jesus was a silent child, of mystery they say,
His birth was a true miracle, in every single way.
Angels came to sing of Him, to the shepherd they convey,
The story of a new born King, in a stable down the way.

"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.

In The Cool 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.

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.