It is the part of a good shepherd to shear his flock, not to skin it.
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It is the duty of a good shepherd to shear his sheep, not to skin them.
Gracious Good Shepherd
Gracious good shepherd
Do you really know who I am?
Gracious good shepherd
Will you answer when I call your name?
Gracious good shepherd
You can hear confusion crying out
Gracious good shepherd
What little faith I have I am ashamed
I visualize an angel
All freezing and bitter cold
I cannot believe the love there
What heavenly sacrifice
Gracious good shepherd
If you hear me now, I love you so
Gracious good shepherd
Why for me?
Gracious good shepherd
You say you love the lost born
Gracious good shepherd
I believe that one is me
Some tell me the virgin birth is
A beautiful ancient tale
But you tell me gods constellation
Led all to the living well
Gracious good shepherd
If you hear me now, I love you so
Gracious good shepherd
Why, why for me?
Gracious good shepherd
Do you really know who I am?
Gracious good shepherd
Will you answer when I call your name?
Gracious good shepherd
These are different times, Im sure you see
Gracious good shepherd
We need, you now
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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Part Of My Life
Can you be a part of my life?
Can you be a part of my life?
Oh its easy to find some one to play with
And almost anyone will do to fill your idle time
But that very special someone,
You can share all your dreams with is so hard to find
And it use to be like me to settle for the physical
But these days it aint too easy to make up my mind
Cause apparently you body just to temporally to take up my precious time
See Ive got to know that
That I can be free with you and
Youve got to show that
That youre worthy of my time
Can you stimulate my mind?
And I know that it looks good,
But can you be a part of my life
And Im sure that it feels good
But can you be a part of my life
And it probably even taste good
But can you be a part of my life
Ive got to know
I still appreciate the beauty of a man
But theres more to what I need now than what meets the eye
And if beautys only skin deep,
Then your pretty skin wont send me to my highest high
Oh its been along time come for maturity
And I believe that its truly what it has to be
Cause as much as I admire you
My sexual desire, aint controlling me
See Ive got to know that
That I can be free with you and
Youve got to show that
That youre worthy of my time
Can you stimulate my mind?
And I know that it looks good,
But can you be a part of my life
And Im sure that it feels good
But can you be a part of my life
And it probably even taste good
But can you be a part of my life
Ive got to know
And I know that it looks good,
But can you be a part of my life
And Im sure that it feels good
But can you be a part of my life
And it probably even taste good
But can you be a part of my life
Ive got to know
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shepard
The kind, loving shepherd
Takes his hand, with the shears
And shaves his flock of sheep
One by one, fleecing them.
Gently, he makes the wool
To cover his raw skin,
Insulating his body
When the cold weather comes.
The sheep sleep in the snow,
Resting beside the fire.
The shepherd heats the pit,
Throwing wood on the pyre.
He cares for them, their needs;
He feeds them, gives water.
He tends to their living,
Paving their survival.
Then, late in ev'ry week,
When he becomes hungry,
He takes a soft sheep back
And slaughters it. Alone.
The other sheep do not know,
So, still, they will follow
Their generous master,
The kind, loving shepherd.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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The Lamb and the Wolf (Ballad)
I saw a lamb to wolf turn prey!
I saw it kill’d in gruesome way;
The lamb was rather small, I say;
I saw it frolicking that day;
It bleated while busy at play;
That day, its life, it had to pay;
And soon, I heard a plaintive cry;
The grass was smeared by lamb’s blood dry!
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”
The wolf was dressed in fine lamb-skin;
It killed by habit, kith and kin;
Like lamb, it spoke and went so near;
It acted friendly, allayed fear;
It took the lamb afar to play;
The lamb was foolish on that day;
It was so meek and frail, not bold;
It wished to see the far-off world.
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”
The wolf then took the lamb away,
To steep a cliff with grass to play;
In moment’s time, it pushed it down;
The foul-play was almost half-done;
The lamb remained so very dazed;
That it was live, kept me amazed;
Before it could then recover,
The wolf made plans to devour.
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”
The wolf noticed the lamb’s sad plight
And asked if it was quite alright;
It said, “I’ll take you to mother.”
The lamb believed the lie, brother!
It took it round and round and round;
There was no sign of flock on ground;
The lamb had gone really far;
Against the wolf, it could not war.
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”
The lamb couldn’t walk any farther;
To pray to God, it didn’t bother;
It was so tired, hungry too;
It did not know what next to do;
The wolf then caught the lamb by throat;
The blood spilled down its white fur-coat;
The lamb was dead in moments split;
The wolf ate lamb and tried to sit;
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”
The wolf had feasted like a drill;
It ate with joy and had its fill;
It worked its way with pretty skill;
It left no trace of lamb on hill;
It was the poor lamb’s folly still.
The lamb had vanished from the rill;
It was too weak to fight by will;
The lamb had died a death cruel.
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”
O shepherd good and experienced
With staff so long and strong and hooked;
If you had been awake and heard
The poor lamb’s cry, you could it saved;
If you had spotted wolf disguised,
One blow by staff you could have killed;
If you had watched with care, brother,
It would have stayed near its mother;
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”
Then good shepherd, “Why didn’t you come
To save lamb’s life from wolf’s welcome? ”
The little lamb didn’t know wolf’s scent;
It was too small and innocent;
Its legs were weak and could not run;
It thought that life was only fun;
If more alert had been shepherd,
The lamb needn’t go astray or erred.
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”
Had shepherd failed to act aright?
Had wolf deceived the lamb’s eye-sight?
Did not God know the lamb’s poor plight?
How could a lamb give wolf a fight?
Was it an act of destiny?
Was lamb to blame for mutiny?
Perhaps, the lamb was bound to die,
Allured by wolf’s broad day-light lie!
My good shepherd, “Did you not know? ”
My God, “Did You all this allow? ”
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-11-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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You can shear a sheep many times but you can skin him only once.
You cannot shear the sheep closer than the skin.
In things a moderation keep; Kings ought to shear, not skin, their sheep.
quote by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: The Good Shepherd Protects All His Sheep
From everything unholy satan does,
The Master of the creation, God will
Find out the ways to protect His righteous
From all effects that are adverse and ill!
For, God is our Care-taker, Good Shepherd,
And won't allow the wolf to steal his sheep,
Who listen to His call and every word,
And protect them from falling down the deep.
The sheep will know the wolf in lamb-skin fast,
And run for cover to the shepherd near,
Who with his wisdom of the present, past,
Instills self-confidence, removes all fear!
The Good Shepherd knows every sheep by name,
And knows the wolf's designs and every game!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-07-12
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: For Heaven’s Sake, Be Righteous
Like a roaring lion, prowls the devil,
Our adversary, to undo our good;
For, enough is enough; do no evil;
Receive the crown of life through good priesthood.
Shepherd the flock like how Jesus Christ did;
The Good Shepherd died for no fault of His;
Be like the city on the hill unhid;
Walk in the shadow of the cross to bliss.
Oh, how much longer must we live in sin?
Such precious time has gone awaste in life;
God helps the righteous against devils win;
The life in heaven is one without strife.
Oh, live a selfless life for Jesus’ sake;
Remember that Heaven, hell isn’t a fake!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-6-2007
poem by John Celes
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Life Of The Blessed
FROM THE SPANISH OF LUIS PONCE DE LEON.
Region of life and light!
Land of the good whose earthly toils are o'er!
Nor frost nor heat may blight
Thy vernal beauty, fertile shore,
Yielding thy blessed fruits for evermore!
There without crook or sling,
Walks the good shepherd; blossoms white and red
Round his meek temples cling;
And to sweet pastures led,
His own loved flock beneath his eye is fed.
He guides, and near him they
Follow delighted, for he makes them go
Where dwells eternal May,
And heavenly roses blow,
Deathless, and gathered but again to grow.
He leads them to the height
Named of the infinite and long-sought Good,
And fountains of delight;
And where his feet have stood
Springs up, along the way, their tender food.
And when, in the mid skies,
The climbing sun has reached his highest bound,
Reposing as he lies,
With all his flock around,
He witches the still air with numerous sound.
From his sweet lute flow forth
Immortal harmonies, of power to still
All passions born of earth,
And draw the ardent will
Its destiny of goodness to fulfil.
Might but a little part,
A wandering breath of that high melody,
Descend into my heart,
And change it till it be
Transformed and swallowed up, oh love! in thee.
Ah! then my soul should know,
Beloved! where thou liest at noon of day,
And from this place of woe
Released, should take its way
To mingle with thy flock and never stray.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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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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The Lambs On The Road
The lambs on the road were dismayed
Bleating all along they wandered
There lay the slain shepherd
The sun descended.
A flock lost!
The new sky was cast ever clouded
The men from the East never frowned
Their wisdom was long before eroded
And their return was irredeemably abandoned.
A nightmare unveiled!
The lambs still bleated along the road winding
They were to reach a peak triumphing.
The shepherd was thenceforth forgotten for ever!
And the bleating had given way for a shout of joy before.
An euphoria unyielding!
The bleating music has been on and on
The shepherd has somewhere been laid to rest.
The new shepherd first looks around and up on the peak.
But there is no road descending from atop
A truth spoken!
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Earth and Men
i am earth
i see with
lenses in
the men
my blood
runs in them
the trees
they are
hair on
my skin
such
bright greenery
once
but i have
been naughty
shaving it
here, there
everywhere
to give myself
a smoother look
planting things
in their place
to make me
feel good
look good
trying
all things
hoping
to gain
immortability
now, have i
been wrong?
i see
the sky
growing
darker
a part
of me
lacerates
soon
to disfigure
me
blood
running
down
my physique
part
of my
skin
turning
so dry
it cracks
and the men
the men
and my eyes -
they would see
no more!
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Sonnet: Good Shepherd’s Love
One sheep amongst the hundred, if gets lost,
The Good Shepherd begins to search for it,
Returning when ’tis found at any cost –
Lamb gets His shoulders upon which to sit!
God seeks and saves the lamb that’s gone astray!
He will not rest until lost one is found;
He leaves the ninety-nine behind that day;
He leads them on to newer grazing-ground.
What love, the Shepherd’s heart bears for His sheep!
He tends to every lamb with equal care;
Yet, some decide to take the plunge down steep,
And meet their death, despite His warnings bare.
The Good Shepherd will not forsake one sheep!
No wolves in sheep-skin dare to come or creep.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-7-2008
poem by John Celes
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The Two Devines
It was shearing time at the Myall Lake,
And then rose the sound through the livelong day
Of the constant clash that the shear-blades make
When the fastest shearers are making play;
But there wasn't a man in the shearers' lines
That could shear a sheep with the two Devines.
They had rung the sheds of the east and west,
Had beaten the cracks of the Walgett side,
And the Cooma shearers had given them best --
When they saw them shear, they were satisfied.
From the southern slopes to the western pines
They were noted men, were the two Devines.
'Twas a wether flock that had come to hand,
Great struggling brutes, that shearers shirk,
For the fleece was filled with the grass and sand,
And seventy sheep was a big day's work.
"At a pound a hundred it's dashed hard lines
To shear such sheep," said the two Devines.
But the shearers knew that they's make a cheque
When they came to deal with the station ewes;
They were bare of belly and bare of neck
With a fleece as light as a kangaroo's.
"We will show the boss how a shear-blade shines
When we reach those ewes," said the two Devines.
But it chanced next day, when the stunted pines
Were swayed and stirred by the dawn-wind's breath,
That a message came for the two Devines
That their father lay at the point of death.
So away at speed through the whispering pines
Down the bridle-track rode the two Devines.
It was fifty miles to their father's hut,
And the dawn was bright when they rode away;
At the fall of night, when the shed was shut
And the men had rest from the toilsome day,
To the shed once more through the darkening pines
On their weary steeds came the two Devines.
"Well, you're back right sudden,"the super said;
"Is the old man dead and the funeral done?"
"Well, no sir, he ain't not exactly dead,
But as good as dead," said the eldest son --
"And we couldn't bear such a chance to lose,
So we came straight back to tackle the ewes."
*
They are shearing ewes at the Myall Lake,
And the shed is merry the livelong day
With the clashing sound that the shear-blades make
When the fastest shearers are making play;
And a couple of "hundred and ninety-nines"
Are the tallies made by the two Devines.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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