poem: father, son and holy ghost

’tis a truth thy know full well,

that love’s not absent of it’s mind,

or blind, to that which poorly you disguised –

indeed pretence was spotted long ago;

 hide not from love, that loves you even so –

and knows the sacred beat of thy dear heart,

and knows it still.

 

that ill fitting mask you wear,

that oft was dropped when fear of loss

commanded you to reassure – it never hid you well;

but well i know

that half hidden meant half seen;

and oft pursued –

with hope of keeping, what anger sought to lose.

 

anger is the ice that kept him cold enough

to stay away;

you never wore ice well – feign not the bitter frost

that held him sway.

For you are not so lost, and my years will tell

of all the love you give and give again;

for those who love you now, will love you then.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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poem: mister angry

 

tis true you are not perfect,

but that’s not how you stay disguised;

for tis your anger still

that scrapes and blinds thee to mine eye;

and this you can’t deny,

when even now you test me out for lies;

 

and scrape the honours given

to force upon them some demise.

mister angry makes you bend and show your arse;

‘twould be funny,

were it not an oft played farce.

 

 

 

poem: good friday

meditation based on psalm 23, vs 5 

 

you prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies

and i look up, from the foot of your cross

and it is my sin that put you there

too oft from a sin that i chose

and yet you anoint my head with oil

and my cup over flow’s

 

 

you anoint my head with oil

my cup overflows’

and i look up from the foot of your cross

from your head and your wounds

your blood freely flows;

how could it be that blood of lamb slain

could free me of guilt, could free me of blame?

that you feed me as enemies taunt me with death

and that my cup, with your love, over flows?

and i look up from the foot of your cross

and my love overflows

Poem: proud, prouder, proudest

 

hide not from me who saw you

however well thy thought self hid;

when you seek me be proud of you,

in all you do, have done and did;

and will do – for love’s great cause,

will never cease, will never pause.

 

the shield you thought protection

can only shut out loves proud view;

cease now love’s long detention,

’tis long enough, they know it true;

there was no shame to hide,

and in mine eyes, you saw it so.

 

Kneading, richly weaving, vibrant growing

and it grows; hide not thine eyes from seeing,

what you know your heart doth know;

and let thy footsteps quickly carry thee –

to tend our soil and watch love grow

our family.

poem: on restoring vision

i will see thee, as i saw thee

and know thee as i did;

though better seen thy will be,

where, once, thou was hid.

 

you will see me, as you saw me,

knowing better what i knew;

and that mine eye indeed was clear,

and saw thee, love, and saw thee true.

 

our lips out loud shall speak,

what is whispered in these prayers;

and eyes this time will meet,

knowing love doth greet us there.

for tho’ mine eye is sore

from long denied thy dearest face;

it’s sight will be restored,

and its light, renewed, with grace.

.

Poem: light to mine eye

through all of the storms that have tossed me to sea;

through fog, smog and hurricane,

and windswept cold quays –

this one thing I’ve known, I’ve known long to be true

these eyes that God gave me,

he gave me for you

through days of warm sunshine and whispers of truth

kissing the skin of the apple that youth,

long plucked from the top of God’s tree;

but that which is love is also

so wise – and love gave me eyes to see,

the youth at the top of his tree;

for though long the journey, ’tis not been unknown

and sorrow not stifles this constant heart grown,

for  hearts never hidden cannot be disguised –

and fear did not paint those starry bright skies;

tis true and cannot be denied

thank you God, for giving me eyes.

 

Poem: fairy tales

 

 

anxiety anxiety

crawling now all over me

am i dragon, fiery beast

feared till bled

from sword released

or just some foolish maiden

without head

who lay beneath the dragon

until dead

Poem: returning, unleaving

betwixt and between –

that is where I have been,

between the always returning

and the heart that anchored

as it cleaved;

 

love

oh love, have i always known you thus?

let it be, let it be

in this heart that bobs along the crest of

coming back, and yet

it never leaves;

oh please, let it be still and calm between

those sturdy lovers arms

again.