At the beginning of spring
Around me at the begging of spring
I see the works of God disguised
in the scheherazade of white, pink and yellow
flowers on the trees,
hanging with sweet innocence,
but not without coincidence,
still a part of an eternal plan
of the way that things are bound to go,
which includes man
the being who with choice
can live with integrity
or without conscience
be just another animal
in the great zoo
called the world.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Into The Last Month Of Winter
Into the last month of Winter and the wattles cloaked in yellow flowers in bloom
And pink flowers on the camellias and yellow flowers on the broom
And all through the night the white backed magpies sing
On the third week of August coming up to the Spring
On the third week of August in the Southern Hemisphere
One does have a sense that Spring is quite near
The paddocks and parklands are looking quite green
And fragile pink flowers on the fruit trees are seen
Into the third week of August and birds sing in the rain
And all through the night frogs sing in pond and drain
And in the calm of the night in the parkland nearby
The breeding spur wing plovers in their territory cry
And all through the night on the moonlit gum trees
The songs of the magpies carry in the breeze.
poem by Francis Duggan
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God’s Perfect Will
I need to be quiet and still, as God works out His Perfect Will,
To the things that just may be, and this in the light of Eternity;
Things that happen in my life, that cause my heart minor strife,
As they happen within the day, through what others do or say.
I need to face things properly, for at times I don’t always see,
Unless I’m in a proper light, to know in God all works out right.
Even if one does me wrong, in God I will always stand strong,
Knowing that His will prevails, as that enemy, against me rails.
God’s will is above our own, as He guides us from His Throne,
Purposing in the lives of men, so they too, may be born again.
Using the witness of our life, as His testimony for Jesus Christ,
So we may have a trial or two, that only He can see us through.
There are things we don’t know, while days here come and go,
The secret things belong to God, ruling above this earthly sod,
But He revealed to every man, within His Word, an eternal plan,
A plan that includes everyone, with true knowledge of His Son.
So we must live out every day, mindful of God along the way,
Knowing God helps us stand, upheld by His omniscient hand,
As His will comes to a close, on earth He uses men He chose,
Drawing men to His eternal will, as His promise He does fulfill.
(Copyright ©06/2008)
Under The Locusts
What do the old men say,
Sitting out of the sun?
Many strange and common things,
And so would any one.
Locust trees are sorry shade,
They are good enough;
Locust trees are sweet in spring
For trees so old and tough.
Dick's a sturdy little lad
Yonder throwing stones;
Agues and rheumatic pains
Will fiddle on his bones.
Grinny Bob is out again
Begging for a dime;
Niggers haven't any souls,
Grinning all the time.
Jenny and Will go arm in arm.
He's a lucky fellow;
Jenny's checks are pink as rose,
Her mother's cheeks are yellow.
War is on, the paper says,
Wounds and enemies;
Now young gallivanting bucks
Will know what trouble is.
Parson's coming up the hill,
Meaning mighty well;
Thinks he's preached the doubters down.
And old men never tell.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Memories Of Lost Youth
When I was a young boy many decades ago
I thought babies like flowers in the gardens did grow
That's what I was told and what I did believe
Children have their innocence and are not hard to deceive.
I yearn for the innocence that I had then
Something that I lost in the World of men
Lost innocence we cannot hope to regain
Though fond memories of childhood we always retain.
When I was a young boy with joy I recall
The great tits young in the dark cavity in the stone wall
I did hear them chirp though them I could not see
The mysteries of Nature a wonder to me.
The winter was cold with frost wind rain and snow
And the river bank high in the old fields did flow
But Spring brought her birdsong her wildflowers and green
And Nature's great beauty for all to be seen.
My innocence died like the flowers of the Spring
But memories of lost youth a beautiful thing
The passing of time has left me looking gray
And a different World I live in today.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sonnet- There Ain't Much Time
The skin just clads the flesh and bones of frame;
Be it black or brown, pink, yellow or white;
For that matter, your God, don't ever blame;
All human Beings are one in His Sight.
Some have a nature sweet that few possess;
Some have a beauty rare of mind and heart;
Let not the problems of the world obsess;
Lets do our duty to God 'fore we part.
There is no time to fret and fume on earth;
There is no time to waste on self, others;
There is no time for many things since birth;
There is no time to blame the next, brothers.
The world takes care of itself if need be;
Lets listen to our conscience truly.
poem by John Celes
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When I look at the world around me
Pink, red and purple geraniums
that flower in the garden,
cannot grow without sunlight
and water.
Still, every different flower
has an own colour, a different odour
and the texture of flower cups
and the time that buds last
are different.
When I look at the world around me,
I know how a part
of You’re great omnipotence looks
and I see flowers dazzling everywhere,
to pay homage to You
from who
every thing comes
and every plant and flower
leaves me dumbstruck with beauty.
In all things, Your love is unlimited
and the greatness of Your works
tells me that I‘m also part
of Your making
and that all things fit somewhere
in Your universe.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A spring evening
Outside the irises flower yellow and purple
and I haven’t seen a red one yet
and there are some pink and white blossoms
on the fruit trees
and the streetlights burn continually
glowing orange-yellow
all day and all night
as if the municipality
does not know how to do things right
and in the fading evening light
the moon is full and white
and the evening star is already shining bright
and a hot breeze sweeps in
through the open windows
and I wonder when the first spring rain
is going to fall
and in the distance I see thunder
crashing down
in blue-white flashes, but the storm
is blown away and again the sky is clear
and the black speckled by stars.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In God’s Hands
All the world is in God’s Hands, this world in general understands,
And believers put their trust in God, as they walk this earthly sod.
However, there’s one other side, where Truth and God are denied,
As many live on their own means, chasing after temporal dreams.
All things work out for our good, for all within God’s brotherhood,
According to His purpose in life, as believers follow Jesus Christ.
God’s purpose, will also be fulfilled, in others, who are self-willed,
But, theirs will be a different case, as they reject His loving Grace.
There’s nothing that can thwart, what God purposed from the start,
No earthly issue caused by man, can sidetrack God’s Eternal Plan,
Not even, The Lord’s eternal foe, can alter the way His Plan will go,
And from the start His Plan will end, the exact way God did intend.
God simply tarries while waiting for, many more to know our Lord,
To be included in His plan of Grace, to give them an eternal place,
As His plan includes freewill for all, saving some from Adam’s fall.
While others Satan will deceive, because God they will not receive,
It isn’t that God cannot save all; as any task for Him is quite small,
But many decide not to follow Him, to follow Satan’s folly and sin,
And it is during this Age of Grace, that men come to Christ in faith,
To oppose all a world understands, to be safe within God’s Hands.
(Copyright ©12/2008)
A Kentish Garden
THERE is a grey-walled garden, far away
From noise and smoke of cities, where the hours
Pass with soft wings among the happy flowers,
And lovely leisure blossoms every day.
There, tall and white, the sceptral lily blows;
There grow the pansy, pink, and columbine,
Brave hollyhocks, and star-white jessamine,
And the red glory of the royal rose.
There greeny glow-worms gem the dusky lawn,
The lime-trees breathe their fragrance to the night,
Pink roses sleep, and dream that they are white,
Until they wake to colour with the dawn.
There, in the splendour of the sultry noon,
The sunshine sleeps upon the garden bed
Where the white poppy droops a drowsy head
And dreams of kisses from the white full moon.
And there, some days, all wild with wind and rain,
The tossed trees show the white side of their leaves,
While the great drops drip from the ivied eaves,
And birds are still--till the sun shines again.
And there, all days, my heart goes wandering,
Because there, first, my heart began to know
The glories of the summer and the snow,
The loveliness of harvest and of spring.
There may be fairer gardens; but I know
There is no other garden half so dear;
Because 'tis there, this many, many a year,
The sacred, sweet, white flowers of memory grow!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Joyous Spring Colors
Spring always starts with a little yellow
As dandelions pop out their heads
Then we see daffodils’ smiling faces
They don’t even need flower beds
We enjoy blossoms along the streets
Some are pink and some are white
After a long dreary winter, folks
They are such a welcome sight
Azaleas and Rhododendrons galore
Burst forth with many colors
Every size you can imagine as well
And flourish like no others
Let’s not forget the Hydrangea
Dressed in blue, pink or white
Huge balls of blossoms they are
And just fills us with delight
I would enjoy them all year long
If only I had my druthers
But since I don’t have a choice
I treasure joyous spring colors!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Glorious Spring Blossoms
I drove to town this sunny morning
And right before my eyes
I saw that spring was here
It was a glorious surprise
The trees were huge plumes of pink
Like fluffy cotton candy to me
Others were white like puffy clouds
They were spectacular to see
I love the spring when dull trees turn
Whether by God or Mother Nature
It shows tomorrow has such promise
With spring blossoms sweet and pure!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Beautiful Azalea
The beautiful azalea is a woody shrub that never grows into a tree
But the pink flowers on the azalea are so beautiful to see
In the cool to warm days of October when Spring is in the air
And beautiful Mother Nature flowers on her green cloak wear,
How lovely the azalea in the cool shade of the trees
In her mass of pinkish flowers gently stirring in the breeze
Such a thing of natural beauty for to beautify the Spring
In the nice days of October when the nesting song birds sing,
In her tiny leaves of light green and her mass of bright pink flowers
The azalea she is blooming in the sunshine and Spring showers
But time it keeps on ticking and the years go quickly by
And how many more Octobers will i live for to enjoy?
The sight of the beautiful azalea in her pink flowers in the shade
A thing of such rare beauty by Nature only made.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Other Gospels
There are many ways, you know, preached by many, on how to go,
To Heaven to be with Eternal God, preached with a convincing nod,
There are many ways we’re told, for sheep to reach the eternal fold,
To then dwell forever in God’s Love, in the Shepherd’s Fold above.
Some men teach a gospel of works, with a list of man-made perks,
With salvation contingent upon, works ordered by a spiritual liaison.
Some tout a universal salvation, that includes every man and nation,
Suggesting whatever you believe, eternal life above you will receive.
Some even abandon The Cross, believing there’ll be no eternal loss,
Not needing the work of Calvary, as a god lives in both you and me.
All other gospels many proclaim, still pointing to the Savior’s Name,
Have been devised by only man, and are not of God’s Eternal Plan.
Satan’s deceiving many my friend, as Christ warned, during the end,
For many will come claiming to be, Christ, returning for you and me.
But Christ’s sheep know His voice, so won’t make the wrong choice,
As a strange voice they’ll run from, knowing it’s not from God’s Son.
Paul went on to say all men, of another gospel, God must condemn,
For there’s only one Christ to reach, only one Gospel we can preach,
The only Gospel from Christ Jesus, is the only message we can trust,
And only as we accept this Truth, will we avoid God’s eternal reproof.
(Copyright ©06/2008)
Spring,2004
Spring is bursting
In the Air,
Flowers budding
Everywhere...
Magnolia Blossoms
Open wide,
Daffodills
Both yellow & white...
Spring is Special
Every year,
A Lilac fragrance
In the air...
Dogwoods blooming
Over night
Hyacinths,
So purple and bright...
Spring is here,
It's plain to see
Squirrels scampering
In the trees...
Birds are chirping
From above
Spring Miracles
We Share With Love...
poem by Carmen Strawn
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Nature's blessings Spring
Nature's blessings called Spring
Nature's blessings
Cherry trees in bloom
Cascades of colours
Floating into my room
Nature's blessings
Eruption of new life
Everywhere around
It's the eternal bound
Nature's blessings
Spring's awakening
Fills one with new hopes
Melting away sorrow slopes
Nature's blessings
Shy scarce sunbeams
Sense of survival
Swallow's arrival
Nature's blessings
Flowers popping up
It's time to hold on
For young and old
Nature's blessings
Cycle of every year
Winter months we bear
Now earthly warming
Nature's blessings
Worth all the gold
Nature's natural gift
To life we all hold
Nature's blessings called Spring
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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On Wattle Day
On bushes and trees on the first day of Spring
The nesting songbirds chirp and whistle and sing
In the darkness of midnight as the rain drizzled down
The Goddess of Spring she crept into town
The Spring has arrived in Australia for her three months stay
On the first of September known as Wattle Day
The rain in the morning gave way to sunshine
And the rest of the day may be sunny and fine
The wattle trees cloaked in their bright yellow flowers
They came to bloom in late Winter in the rain driven showers
With the arrival of Spring an abundance of green
And wildflowers known to some as weeds everywhere to be seen
The mealaleucas in their blooms of pink to gray
For beauty compete with the wattles on Wattle Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Everything is going to be wet
Every day rain falls down
from the overcast grey sky
and lightning bolts
flash blue white
like the fingers
of the gods
caressing the earth
while the leaves of autumn
cover every tree
in auburn, yellow and brown.
Green leaves on the stems
of big pink hollyhocks
here and there
dip up and down
when hit by drops of rain
as if suddenly coming alive
and it’s going to be
a wet winter
and probably
not all that chilly
with rain falling
out of season.
The grass is green
and everything but trees
are growing
as if it’s still spring.
and flowers bloom
on geraniums, roses, hollyhocks,
lilies, irises and petunias
in colours ranging
from white, orange, yellow,
violet to red and blue
and without covering
everything is going
to be wet.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Wild garden
I saw rows of white,
yellow and red lilies bloom,
next to the railway tracts.
Loaded trains rattled past
and that garden,
sprang up by itself between the weeds.
With the early summer rain
rows of blue, white and pink wild flowers
bloomed next to the road that passed nearby.
Some finches nested in the trees
and red, yellow and green birds
flew past the vast garden
of earth that came alive
as far as the eye could see.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Walking With the Senses
My invisible feet make themselves
Stick up under my thick pink and white blanket:
Closer to my body than I'd like.
I never stop begging my legs to grow.
My circle pink-edged mirror gazes up with its silver eye
At the white ceiling - not receiving a stare in return.
If the flowers embedded in my blanket could talk -
They'd say 'With the senses forever walk.'
I May Not Know
I may not know dear Lord, but you, know the things I’m going through,
You know the beginning and the end, and I know that you’re my friend.
Your plan for me is whatever’s best, through every trial and every test,
And I may not know the reason why, but, your love for me I can’t deny.
Your plan also includes prosperity, on a winding path towards eternity,
And though, at times, I sense alarm, your plan for me intends no harm.
Rather, in you I’m protected from, the dangers of life when they come,
And from you I receive total peace, when life’s tribulations do increase.
It’s during times I don’t understand; I remember my life is in your hand,
While your will is done in my life, for my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
At times this may affect my family, through ways that I have yet to see,
As you mold and shape their ways, for your eventual Glory and Praise.
When I go down a daily to do list, I know that my life is but just a mist,
Appearing on earth for just a time, as I’m shaped for an eternal design.
Within your plan, you let me know, you are with me wherever I may go,
As my Rock and strength through all, holding me up, lest I should fall.
It is not for me to know what’s ahead, lest I would be filled with dread,
But to know where strength is from, as more trials are bound to come,
And within your plan, I have hope, with your strength to help me cope,
Knowing I have a Heavenly Home, to live forever as Christ’s very own.
(Copyright ©09/2008)