Let I get my thoughts
Let I get my thoughts, my verses from You
who reigns supreme over everything
and in it let You bless me as You constantly do,
to make everyone of my words sing
and let others boast
of finding supreme power
from a familiar ghost
in which they flower
and let them in that spirit dwell
while You dwell with me in tranquillity
and let them be dignified and of its powers tell
while You guide me in every activity:
and although their works play out as a lucky clover
in my writing Your blessings resound over and over.
[Reference: Sonnet 86 “Was it the proud full sail of his great verse” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Verses Wrought
I do not know just how or when, God will send something to my pen,
From something that's on my heart, a thought God desires to impart,
Throughout my day, just as I go, thoughts from above seem to flow,
While I begin with simply a thought, by The Spirit verses are wrought.
It is The Lord God, Who blesses me, with these verses, that you see,
As these words that I pass along; the credit for all, does truly belong,
To The Lord God, Who reigns above, inspiring the verses, I speak of,
These very words, which I pen, that God has me share with other men.
God pens verses from my prose, through ways only The Spirit knows,
This when God's Spirit is inclined, to guide these thoughts in my mind,
In ways which only The Spirit can, as my Lord fills just an ordinary pen,
God blessing me, with His choice, to use my pen, instead of my voice.
Blessings, I hope to pass your way, with verses, on what I have to say,
As The Lord moves upon my heart, regarding thoughts I wish to impart,
From my thoughts God takes words, and He compiles them into verse,
Through ways that only God can do, so that I may share them with you.
Sharing with many through my life, the Truth and Grace of Jesus Christ,
Sharing Truths, you may have heard, that you find in God's Holy Word,
And Grace, which God bestows on us, when we follow The Lord Jesus,
All this as my Savior blesses me, while He guides me home to Eternity.
Your Love And Pure Integrity Is Not In Dispute, Lord (Cavatina Sequence)
(after Gerard Manley Hopkins)
Your love and pure integrity is not
in dispute, Lord,
yet my enemies grow in their power,
in Your record
their evil ways constantly do prosper,
they can afford
great mansions are quite happy in their sin
while there is no place for me to be in.
Even if You were not my dearest friend,
I am not free
from trepidation, from Your punishment,
tranquillity,
avoids me, destruction follow in my steps;
iniquity
is with them that do wreck my livelihood,
while constantly I do only mean good.
Let the great harvest come while I tell some
of Your kindness,
give real power to all my words and works,
in my blindness
help me to see all of Your loving care
while You do bless
me again and again in times of strain,
rid me of all my pain, while You send rain.
[Reference: 'Thou Art Indeed Just, Lord' by Gerard Manley Hopkins.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Right across the country from me
(after Dorothy Parker, for A)
Right across the country from me
is the place that you call home,
a place where my spirit at times roam,
where you live in a kind of tranquillity.
Sometimes I do not know
how to put my feelings in words, to express
my utter loneliness
and at break of day and its end the horizon glows
in the place where you dwell
and under others skies
the day begins and dies
while of my thoughts I want you to tell
but maybe it's much better
not to say anything,
not even to make your telephone ring
and never to write a letter.
[Reference: "Hearthside" by Dorothy Parker.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Extinct Family
Say lovely lady, can you help a gentleman safely cross the street?
Escort him home at night, treat him to dinner by romantic candlelight
Emancipation reigns supreme
She wears the trousers, skirts are rarely seen
Emancipation reigns supreme
Its just a matter of time for men to become extinct finally
Say, whats for dinner honey?
No, he will never say those words again
Be quiet when she gets home
In this feminine system youd better leave her alone
Emancipation reigns supreme
She wears the trousers, skirts are rarely seen
Emancipation reigns supreme
Its just a matter of time for men to become extinct finally
Men extinct finally, gone
She wears the trousers, Kate Bush for president
song performed by by Undeclinable Ambuscade
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Hymn 137
Salvation by grace in Christ.
2 Tim. 1:9,10.
Now to the power of God supreme
Be everlasting honors giv'n;
He saves from hell, (we bless his name,)
He calls our wand'ring feet to heav'n.
Not for our duties or deserts,
But of his own abounding grace,
He works salvation in our hearts,
And forms a people for his praise.
'Twas his own purpose that begun
To rescue rebels doomed to die;
He gave us grace in Christ his Son
Before he spread the starry sky.
Jesus the Lord appears at last,
And makes his Father's counsels known;
Declares the great transactions past,
And brings immortal blessings down.
He dies, and in that dreadful night
Did all the powers of hell destroy;
Rising, he brought our heav'n to light,
And took possession of the joy.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Poor Soul
Poor soul, why have you chosen this body,
decided to dwell in me? A human being
while you could have had anybody
and you could have inhabited a more divine thing?
Yet you those someone on this sinful planet called earth
a mere speck in the entire universe
and from my very birth
had to struggle in a world perverse
from what it had been designed to be
and what will you inhabit when
time and destiny brings a end to me
and where will you be then?
Or will you just vanish with the thing called life,
fading into the naught without strive?
[Reference: Sonnet 146 “Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Prayer For Peace
Heavenly Father, we ardently pray
For your presence in this special day
To protect and guide us heavenly
As we have our third graduation day.
We know that without you today
And in every moment that we sail away
Amidst the ocean of life’s long journey
We could never triumph successfully.
But with your love, grace and mercy
We know that we could make it someday;
Bless us then with strength to sail away
And a heart that treasures humility.
Grant us peace and tranquility
Specially in our dear locality
So that we could behold in our way
Development in spite of our diversity.
Forgive us also of our shortcomings
Against our fellowmen and your will
And in everything we failed to see
and done for your kingdom and glory.
Above all, we thank thee fervently
For all your blessings and mercy
For giving us the chance and opportunity
To dwell in your kingdom someday.
All these we ask with humility
Through Jesus Christ, our only Lord and Savior.
AMEN.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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A Writer's Prayer
In my nothingness, be glorified
For everything I have all come from You,
Remove the dross and foolish pride
With grace, bless everything I do.
Guide my writing with Your Light
Your Words of Truth inspire me,
May all that comes from pen be right
That all men come to see.
Bless the words with Your great Power
A wondrous working from above,
For You, oh God, made me a writer
Declare the hope of Your Mercy and Love!
'The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life,
turning a man from the snares of death.'
Proverbs 14: 27
'I have come that they may have Life, and have it to the full.'
John 10: 10
February 2,2010
Philippines
Copyright Cynthia Buhain-Baello
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Difting away...
Thoughts of home or thoughts of friends,
the air has a different scent,
a lovely flower forgotten near,
makes my heart sick with colours & joy.
I suffer and cry,
Yet again cannot see the flower,
The home is far and so the flower,
Though the heart so yearns to feel the touch
Come again Oh,
winds from south,
to carry a cry of breaking heart.
Waiting for that joyus day,
to catch the wind I know so well,
and i will sail in the ship of time,
to reach that land where my hopes so dwell.
poem by Bijoy Philip
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That you were once unkind now brings tranquillity
That you were once unkind now brings tranquillity
and for all the pain that you once dished out
it doesn’t anymore bother me
and nothing now can bring about
a true reckoning, or revenge taken
as it’s been a hell of a long time
and I am not anymore shaken
at what I had to suffer at your crime
and still the acts of destiny hits
much harsher than anything that I would have tendered
but truly its piercing meets exactly where it fits
as if my woe have been remembered:
in reckoning all men before God meets a fee:
mine absolution, yours a punishment to ransom me.
[Reference: Sonnet 120 “That you were once unkind befriends me now” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Love alters not
(after William Shakespeare)
Let me state with all of humankind
as my witness, that love is more than bliss,
is much more than the drawing of a kiss,
it does no error or any change find,
it is true to the body, soul and mind,
in the simple things of each day it is
and all other allures it does dismiss,
much stronger than life, pass death it does bind,
burns with a kind of eternal hot flame
which wanders not within time, months or weeks,
its acts, its words continually does bloom,
in hardship it does not find any blame,
eternally sincerity it seeks,
it stays true, even at the gates of doom.
[Reference: “Sonnet 116 Let me to the marriage of true minds” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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How does a pansy, for example, select the ingredients from soil to get the right colors for the flower? Now there's a great miracle. I think there's a supreme power behind all of this. I see it in nature.
quote by Clyde Tombaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm 139 part 1
The all-seeing God.
Lord, thou hast searched and seen me through,
Thine eye commands with piercing view
My rising and my resting hours,
My heart and flesh with all their powers.
My thoughts, before they are my own,
Are to my God distinctly known;
He knows the words I mean to speak
Ere from my op'ning lips they break.
Within thy circling power I stand;
On every side I find thy hand;
Awake, asleep, at home, abroad,
I am surrounded still with God.
Amazing knowledge, vast and great!
What large extent! what lofty height!
My soul, with all the powers I boast,
Is in the boundless prospect lost.
O may these thoughts possess my breast,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest!
Nor let my weaker passions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.
PAUSE I.
Could I so false, so faithless prove,
To quit thy service and thy love,
Where, Lord, could I thy presence shun.
Or from thy dreadful glory run?
If up to heav'n I take my flight,
'Tis there thou dwell'st enthroned in light
Or dive to hell, there vengeance reigns,
And Satan groans beneath thy chains.
If, mounted on a morning ray,
I fly beyond the western sea,
Thy swifter hand would first arrive,
And there arrest thy fugitive.
Or should I try to shun thy sight
Beneath the spreading veil of night,
One glance of thine, one piercing ray,
Would kindle darkness into day.
O may these thoughts possess my breast,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest!
Nor let my weaker passions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.
PAUSE II.
The veil of night is no disguise,
No screen from thy all-searching eyes;
Thy hand can seize thy foes as soon
Through midnight shades as blazing noon.
Midnight and noon in this agree,
Great God, they're both alike to thee;
Not death can hide what God will spy,
And hell lies naked to his eye.
O may these thoughts possess my breast,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest!
Nor let my weaker passions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.
poem by Isaac Watts
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As When From Dreams Awaking
AS when from dreams awaking
The dim forms float away
Whose visioned smiles were making
Our darkness bright as day;
We vainly strive, while weeping,
From their shining spirit track,
(Where they fled while we were sleeping,)
To call those dear ones back!
Like the stars, some power divides them
From a world of want and pain;
They are there, but daylight hides them,
And we look for them in vain.
For a while we dwell with sadness,
On the beauty of that dream,
Then turn, and hail with gladness
The light of morning's beam.
So, when memory's power is wringing
Our lonely hearts to tears,
Dim forms around us bringing
That brightened former years:
Fond looks and low words spoken,
Which those dreamy days could boast,
Rise; till the spell be broken,
We forget that they are lost!
But when the hour of darkness rolls
Like heavy night away;
And peace is stealing o'er our souls,
Like the dawn of summer day:
The dim sweet forms that used to bless,
Seem stealing from us too;
We loved them-but joy's sunniness
Hath hid them from our view!
Oh could day beam eternally,
And Memory's power cease,
This world, a world of light would be,
Our hearts were worlds of peace:
But dreams of joy return with night,
And dwell upon the past-
And every grief that clouds our light,
Reminds us of the last!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Enter This Deserted House
But please walk softly as you do.
Frogs dwell here and crickets too.
Ain't no ceiling, only blue.
Jays dwell here and sunbeams too.
Floors are flowers - take a few
Ferns grow here and daisies too.
Swoosh, whoosh - too-whit, too-woo
Bats dwell here and hoot owls too.
Ha-ha-ha, hee-hee, hoo-hoooo,
Gnomes dwell here and goblins too.
And my child, I thought you knew
I dwell here... and so do you
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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When Poems Write Themselves
When poems write themselves
To save good eating for last
They refrigerate desserts but
Set them out a while to ponder
on blocks of delivered ice rapped
In preservative newspapers
Until Just before supper is served
Plates are stacked by older
Siblings the coal is stored
In the indoor shed for the evening
Warmth that is there to keep
Comfort before the blessings and
Bible reading verses are marked
The pages tucked the songs
We sing will themselves sung
From memory or hidden verse
By the unison that remembers
Opening sonnet words but
Drowns in long forgotten lines.
poem by Lee B. Mack
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The power of words
Sometimes when you had
an idea for a poem
you didn’t jot it down
and let it be
to fade away into the naught
as if it really didn’t matter
or your words had lost their power
or was there a hidden fear,
something that you didn’t
want to talk about
or something that you didn’t
want to appear,
something that you were afraid
would kill your luck
or disturb your thoughts?
When we spoke at times
you would sarcastically say
go and write a poem about it
and I wonder if you really
didn’t care about writing
or just not about me
or was it jealousy?
Sometimes when the words
of a great poem came to me
you would demand that I immediately
do something for you
to proof my love
and not give me the opportunity
to capture the sacred words.
Yet, as time went by
and I had to leave
the words came back to you
and great verses appeared
and you said that I could string out
poems to the nth power
and wanted me
to write great messages as well
and I was afraid that card like lines
would kill the magic of words in me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Wife to Be (Petrarchan Sonnet)
I stroll along a fragrant country lane
With honeysuckle perfume on the air -
And feathered crooner's warble to revere -
Then cross a golden sea of flowing grain
In empathy - it seems to sense my pain
Of knowing all was done with my affair -
Her empty meaning now the solitaire
She cast away - betrothment all in vain.
But oceans team with many fish to catch
So I must up and hoist another sail
And seek the one that really waits for me,
For soon auspicious breezes will prevail
In guiding forth to find a truer match:
The one to take my hand as wife to be.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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sonnet
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Love stays true
Love stays true
like the compass to its core
and do not issue
any wavering, to the one that it adores
and without any alteration from its state
it is fixed, pointing to the limitless beyond
without having to wait
on what destiny demands and it ties with its own bond
in the spirit and soul of the human race,
it is much more than mentioned above
and its power supersedes time and space
or it does not function as love:
whatever challenges it face or anything that looms,
it is perfectly sincere and true past death, past doom.
[Reference: Sonnet 116 “Let me to the marriage of true minds” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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To suppose more than one supreme Source of infinite wisdom, power, and all perfections, is to assert that there is no supreme Being in existence.
quote by Adam Clarke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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