A misty gray fog
falls on green pastures and flock
Shepherd collect them
haiku by Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black
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The Shepherd
The shepherd goads his sheep by staff,
And leads them on to pastures green,
Instructing them to watch for wolves
That come in sheep-skin, in their midst!
The shepherd knows each sheep by name,
And calls them sweetly when they stray,
Or when they near the ledge atop
A valley deep or hill-side steep!
The sheep too know their shepherd's call,
And graze on meadows, keeping near;
They know he is their protector,
And will save them at any cost!
How safe it is when shepherd's near!
No sheep can ever lose its way;
The shepherd takes care of the flock,
But cannot bear to see one, lost!
Dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius, Parish Priest,
Holy Family Church, Perundurai, by his beloved parishioners
Copyright by Dr John Celes 31-05-2012
poem by John Celes
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Hymn 67
Seeking the pastures of Christ the Shepherd.
SS 1:7.
Thou whom my soul admires above
All earthly joy and earthly love,
Tell me, dear Shepherd, let me know,
Where doth thy sweetest pasture grow?
Where is the shadow of that rock,
That from the sun defends thy flock?
Fain would I feed among thy sheep,
Among them rest, among them sleep.
Why should thy bride appear like one
That turns aside to paths unknown?
My constant feet would never rove,
Would never seek another love.
[The footsteps of thy flock I see;
Thy sweetest pastures here they be;
A wondrous feast thy love prepares,
Bought with thy wounds, and groans, and tears.
His dearest flesh he makes my food,
And bids me drink his richest blood:
Here to these hills my soul will come,
Till my Beloved lead me home.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Nod
Softly along the road of evening,
In a twilight dim with rose,
Wrinkled with age, and drenched with dew
Old Nod, the shepherd, goes.
His drowsy flock streams on before him,
Their fleeces charged with gold,
To where the sun's last beam leans low
On Nod the shepherd's fold.
The hedge is quick and green with briar,
From their sand the conies creep;
And all the birds that fly in heaven
Flock singing home to sleep.
His lambs outnumber a noon's roses,
Yet, when night's shadows fall,
His blind old sheep-dog, Slumber-soon,
Misses not one of all.
His are the quiet steeps of dreamland,
The waters of no-more-pain,
His ram's bell rings 'neath an arch of stars,
'Rest, rest, and rest again.'
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Misty Cloud And Misty Sea
Misty Cloud called to blue Misty Sea,
Rise up to gather rain drops with me
Misty Sea called to driftin' Misty Cloud
To drift with you high up I'd be proud.
Misty Sea rose to join Misty Cloud,
Moist Misty Cloud came wet an' proud.
Joe Raindrop spoke to wet Raindrop Flo,
Dare you to drop down on Sea below.
Raindrop Flo splashed upon Misty Sea,
Joining pool of drops same as she.
Flo called to Raindrop Joe. I fell free
Dare you to drop down on wet Misty Sea.
Joe Raindrop splashed down on Misty Sea,
That's how rainfall comes down so free.
To drop on pleasant land or the Misty Sea,
Livin' things grow when rain falls free.
poem by Marion Gentry
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Psalm 23
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when in a famished state I hunt,
In pastures green and lush with abundance,
He renews my spry and exuberance.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
In gardens of drought He will fortune plant.
He leads to quiet pools of fresh water
from which I draw strength and endless laughter.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He does my requests for pleasant paths grant.
Even when to deepest darkness I stray,
He lovingly paves a most glorious way.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when my foes seek my life to hunt,
His rod and staff give me all the comfort
that allay my fears of every discomfort.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He does my sumptuous feasts and banquets flaunt
for my blood thirsty adversaries to see
from abased locations on bended knee.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Even when Satan tries my soul to haunt,
His goodness and mercy will follow me
until His heavenly abode I see.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (3 July 2022)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Green Pastures
(traditional/brian ahern)
Troubles and trials often betray those
On in the weary body to stray
But we shall walk beside the still waters
With the good shepherd leading the way
Those who have strayed were sought by the master
He who once gave his life for the sheep
Out on the mountain still he is searching
Bringing them in forever to keep
Going up home to live in green pastures
Where we shall live and die never more
Even the lord will be in that number
When we shall reach that heavenly shore
We will not heed the voice of the stranger
For he would lead us all to despair
Following on with jesus our savior
We shall all reach that country so fair
Going up home to live in green pastures
Where we shall live and die never more
Even the lord will be in that number
When we shall reach that heavenly shore
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Birthday Tribute
TO J. F. CLARKE
WHO is the shepherd sent to lead,
Through pastures green, the Master's sheep?
What guileless 'Israelite indeed'
The folded flock may watch and keep?
He who with manliest spirit joins
The heart of gentlest human mould,
With burning light and girded loins,
To guide the flock, or watch the fold;
True to all Truth the world denies,
Not tongue-tied for its gilded sin;
Not always right in all men's eyes,
But faithful to the light within;
Who asks no meed of earthly fame,
Who knows no earthly master's call,
Who hopes for man, through guilt and shame,
Still answering, 'God is over all';
Who makes another's grief his own,
Whose smile lends joy a double cheer;
Where lives the saint, if such be known?--
Speak softly,--such an one is here!
O faithful shepherd! thou hast borne
The heat and burden of the clay;
Yet, o'er thee, bright with beams unshorn,
The sun still shows thine onward way.
To thee our fragrant love we bring,
In buds that April half displays,
Sweet first-born angels of the spring,
Caught in their opening hymn of praise.
What though our faltering accents fail,
Our captives know their message well,
Our words unbreathed their lips exhale,
And sigh more love than ours can tell.
April 4, 1860.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Red Sky: The Good Shepherd and I
Jesus, the good shepherd, once said:
'When it is evening, ye say,
It will be fair weather:
For the sky is red.
And in the morning,
It will be foul weather today:
For the sky is red and lowering.'
Evening red and morning gray
Are the signs of a bonny day.
Evening red:
'Shepherd's delight, '
Daddy said.
That is to say,
'Red sky at night,
Shepherd's delight.'
Evening gray and morning red
Bring down rain on the farmer's head.
Morning red:
'Shepherd's warning, '
Daddy said.
That is to say,
'Red sky in the morning,
Shepherd's warning.'
Evening gray and morning red
Brought down rain on my father's head.
My father, a seasoned farmer,
Could discern the face of the sky.
O Lord, my shepherd, so can I.
poem by Monty Gilmer
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Next To Collect
You could be the next to collect...
RESPECT.
You could be the next on the list...
To get it and quick.
You could be the next to collect...
RESPECT.
Tomorrow no one knows,
Just what to expect.
You may be next to collect it!
An overwhelming love received.
You may be next to collect,
A joy that never leaves.
You may be next to collect it!
A one of a kind peace...
On your mind.
You may be next to collect it!
An overwhelming love received.
You may be next to collect,
A joy that never leaves.
You may be next to collect it!
A one of a kind peace...
On your mind.
You may be next to collect,
Just accept you are blessed.
You could be the next to collect...
RESPECT.
You could be the next on the list...
To get it and quick.
You may be the next to collect it...
An abundance of happiness.
The next to collect.
The next to collect.
You may be the next to collect it...
An abundance of happiness.
The next to collect.
The next to collect.
You may be the next to collect it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Autumn Landscape
No wind there is that either pipes or moans;
The fields are cold and still; the sky
Is covered with a blue-gray sheet
Of motionless cloud; and at my feet
The river, curling softly by,
Whispers and dimples round its quiet gray stones.
Along the chill green slope that dips and heaves
The road runs rough and silent, lined
With plum-trees, misty and blue-gray,
And poplars pallid as the day,
In masses spectral, undefined,
Pale greenish stems half hid in dry gray leaves.
And on beside the river's sober edge
A long fresh field lies black. Beyond,
Low thickets gray and reddish stand,
Stroked white with birch; and near at hand,
Over a little steel-smooth pond,
Hang multitudes of thin and withering sedge.
Across a waste and solitary rise
A ploughman urges his dull team,
A stooped gray figure with prone brow
That plunges bending to the plough
With strong, uneven steps. The stream
Rings and re-echoes with his furious cries.
Sometimes the lowing of a cow, long-drawn,
Comes from far off; and crows in strings
Pass on the upper silences.
A flock of small gray goldfinches,
Flown down with silvery twitterings,
Rustle among the birch-cones and are gone.
This day the season seems like one that heeds,
With fixed ear and lifted hand,
All moods that yet are known on earth,
All motions that have faintest birth,
If haply she may understand
The utmost inward sense of all her deeds.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Green Eyes
got green eyes
as green as grass
on mama's lawn
got green eyes
over greener pastures
on the other fence
got green eyes
baby over your green eyes
when i stay
and you leave me
when you tell me
it is over
got green eyes
as green as
broccoli & lettuce
for my salad
that i serve
and share with my
newly found lover
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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So Many
It's so weird!
so many shades of green in my mind!
I fear one, other
I love? Green, gray?
Green, green
green cloudy
clear, I Followed It
My heart is red! And... do not match!
So many shades of....
Could be blue
Gray may be
'm lost in so many colors
Where is my sound To complete this picture?
my colors, my red, my Suffer
My Lord, my North, snow in me
under other color on to me!
poem by Mirna Morgan
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A Shepherd's Dream
A silly shepherd lately sat
Among a flock of sheep;
Where musing long on this and that,
At last he fell asleep.
And in the slumber as he lay,
He gave a piteous groan;
He thought his sheep were run away,
And he was left alone.
He whoop'd, he whistled, and he call'd,
But not a sheep came near him;
Which made the shepherd sore appall'd
To see that none would hear him.
But as the swain amazèd stood,
In this most solemn vein,
Came Phyllida forth of the wood,
And stood before the swain.
Whom when the shepherd did behold
He straight began to weep,
And at the heart he grew a-cold,
To think upon his sheep.
For well he knew, where came the queen,
The shepherd durst not stay:
And where that he durst not be seen,
The sheep must needs away.
To ask her if she saw his flock,
Might happen patience move,
And have an answer with a mock,
That such demanders prove.
Yet for because he saw her come
Alone out of the wood,
He thought he would not stand as dumb,
When speech might do him good;
And therefore falling on his knees,
To ask but for his sheep,
He did awake, and so did leese
The honour of his sleep.
poem by Nicholas Breton
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Sonnet to J.L. #1
I wonder why your ships are painted green
While ours are gray? I’ve heard some sailors say
That swift ships, camouflaged, can move unseen
Against the sea. Strange, though, it’s always cold gray
Winter’s sea that we anticipate.
I think perhaps you’re wiser with your green.
It is as though you mean to imitate
The warmer, friendlier seas that lie between
The tropics. I wonder, could it be
Your ships are prayers, . their paint a subtle way
To challenge God to grant a happier sea
Than we’d expect in our dour ships of gray?
If so, I pray that God hears your green prayer
And sends you always green seas, calm and fair.
poem by S.J. Fulton
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Eyes Of Green And Gray
Eyes of green and gray
i wish you'd look my way
smile for me today
O eyes of green and gray
Eyes of black and white
of sorrow and delight
i behold every sight
through eyes of black and white
Eyes as hard as stone
so cold and all alone
lost without a home
with eyes as hard as stone
Eyes of green and gray
it's here i want to stay
and never look away
from eyes of green and gray
poem by Sergey Sibikovsky
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Sheep
'Sheep! why don't you follow me? '
Shouted the Shepherd to his flock of three
Where I lead you, you are supposed to follow
In the desert, through the forest, or in a hollow,
I will never, ever deliberately steered you wrong
If only you will listen to me and follow me along
Your safety and happiness is my main concern
So the path we take is from the one I did learn,
With my staff in hand I will lead the way
And I hope from me that you will never stray
As there is so much danger in this world of ours
So for your safety and from my leadership, I am in charge,
'I am your shepherd and you are my flock! '
Screamed the Shepherd as he then got lost
I have taken a different road than what I've taken before
Even though against this road I had cursed and swore,
But I thought the road was safer and easier to take
You must believe my thinking, I made no mistake
This time though I had listen to the advice of others
But now I see the mistake, if only I had my druthers,
Trust in me again, and we will find the correct path
And please forgive my directions and my earlier wrath
Lets just finish our journey and do not lose faith in me
Spoke the Shepherd, to his sheep of three.
poem by Randy McClave
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Sonnet: Lord Jesus Christ - the Good Shepherd
Christ Jesus Lord is Good Shepherd - the one,
Who is ready to sacrifice His life,
For sake of sheep He leads, and He is Son
Of God, Redeemer and saves all from strife!
Christ gave His life upon the cross for all,
And shed His blood as price for mankind's sins,
So that the penitent can hear God's call,
And enter heaven with pure soul and wins.
The Good Shepherd has other sheep to lead,
For they too heed His call and follow Him;
For all His sheep in flock one, need to feed,
Returning safely when the light turns dim!
Christ is the owner of the flock of sheep;
With Good Shepherd around, no wolves dare peep!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 28-04-2012
poem by John Celes
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The Lord Is My Shepherd
THE LORD ID MY SHEPHERED , THE LORD IS MY SHEPHED
MY FRIEND AND HELPER, I SHALL NOT WANT
HE'S THERE TO GUIDE ME , STANDING BESIDE ME
THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD, I SHALL NOT WANT
SPOKEN:THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD, I SHALL NOT WANT
HE MAKETH ME TO LIE IN GREEN PASTURES
HE LEADETH ME BESIDE STILL WATERS
HE RESTORETH MY SOUL
{I SHALL NOT WANT...
HE LEADETH ME IN THE PATHS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS FOR HIS NAME' SAKE
AND YEA, THOUGH I WALK THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH.
I WILL FEAR NO EVIL : FOR THOU ART ME;
THY ROD AND THY STAFF,THEY COMFORT ME.
[I SHALL NOT WANT...]
THOU PREPAREST A TABLE BEFORE ME IN THE PRESENT OF MINE ENEMIES;
THOU ANNOINTH MY HEAD WITH OIL; MY CUP RUNNETH OVER.
SURELY GOODNESS AND MERRY SHALL FOLLOW ME ALL THE DAYS OF MY LIFE.
AND I SHALL NOT DWELL IN THE HOUSE OF THE LORD FOREVER
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Psyche-Life goes down to the shades
As Psyche-Life goes down to the shades
In a translucent forest in Persephone's tracks,
A blind swallow falls at her feet
With Stygian tenderness and a green branch.
The shades flock to meet the fugitive,
Welcome their new visitor with laments,
Wring their feeble hands before her
Bewildered and in timid hope.
One holds a mirror, another a phial of perfume --
The soul is a woman, fond of trifles
And the leafless forest is sprinkled with fine rain of
Laments, dry transparent voices.
And in the gentle confusion, not knowing what to begin,
The soul does not recognize the spectral wood,
Breathes on the mirror, and hesitates to give
The copper coin from the misty crossing.
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
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Misty Water
By the town of straight and narrow,
Theres a dark and misty place.
Everything is hazy,
So the people are afraid.
All except marias daughters,
Who believe in misty ways.
Everything is lovely,
In a misty morning glaze.
I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne maria and her daughters,
They like misty water.
I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne maria and her daughters,
Take a sip of misty water.
Though maria is not lovely,
Shes the lady of my dreams.
cause I see my lady,
Through a misty, silky screen.
And seeing is believing,
But I cant believe my eyes.
Everything is lovely,
In a misty paradise.
I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne maria and her daughters,
They like misty water.
They like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne maria and her daughters,
Take a sip of misty water.
I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne maria and her daughters,
They like misty water.
They like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne maria and her daughters,
They like misty water.
I like misty water,
I like fog and haze.
Anne maria and her daughters...
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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