Tag Archives: verse

The glory of God’s Kingdom

I’ve seen the glory of God’s Kingdom,

walked golden streets in my dream,

listened to angels sweetly singing,

sheltered safe beside a quiet stream.

 

I saw lions and lambs frolic in green pastures,

watched mankind’s children, and cobras at their play.

When I heard our Him so gently speaking,

awed and  humbled, I fell upon my knees to pray.

 

Peace and love overflow the Holy city.

There is shelter for all beneath His mighty wings.

All who know of God’s goodness love and praise Him,

and to His everlasting glory sing.

 

I’ve seen the glory of God’s Kingdom.

Oh how I wish that I could stay.

Perhaps if I love and obey Him,

He will ask me to come back some day.

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Filed under A poem for the people, Literary, Literature

The Simple Truth

Today’s youth cry out

what is truth,

and truth replies

just as loud to youth.

 

you must seek me

if you wish to know my name,

and when you find me,

you must play my game.

 

I’m as elusive

as a dandelion seed

upon the wind.

and I’ll slip like quicksilver

from you’re hand.

 

but if you find me

and hold on,

I’ll prove to be,

your best friend.

 

I’m fragile,

so easily broken,

but I’m  a sacred bond

in any land.

 

If you use me  in earnest,

treat me with respect,

you can settle any dispute,

with a simple shake of your hand.

 

I’ll slip like quicksilver

from your hand.

I’m as elusive

as a dandelion seed

upon the wind,

but when you find me

and hold on,

I’ll prove to be,

your very best friend.

 

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I am Brother of the Wolf

I am brother of the wolf,

cousin of black bear,

father of otter,

son of wolverine.

 

I abide with beaver in his lodges,

make wet lands grow

from rippling streams.

 

I am everybody.

I am nobody.

 

I hunt with grey owl.

Feathered wings,

slice silent through midnight air,

beneath shimmering silver moon,

leaving fearsome shadows in our wake.

 

I am great snow goose,

honking my flock northward northward,

ever northward,

through star sprinkled night

to nesting grounds beside great salt bay.

 

I am red robin’s trill,

that stirs you from your slumber.

 

I am everyone.

I am no one.

 

I am jeweled lakes,

scintillating in summer sunrise,

mirroring morning sky softt

upon my purple deep.

 

I am flooding river,

raging, roaring,

gouging gorges

from bones of earth.

 

I am first forest,

towering forever green,

sheltering myriad life.

 

I am everywhere.

I am nowhere.

 

I am south wind.

whispering trees awake,

when last snowflake fades,

calling trillium,

calling violet,

calling lady slipper,

to cover hidden,

distant dells, with

radiant glory.

 

I am north wind.

rocking trees to their sleep,

when Manitou opens His treasure house,

fills iron grey sky,

feather white,

lanketing the earth with his rest.

 

I am everything. I am nothing.

 

I am brother of the wolf.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under A poem for the people, Literary, Poem

REMEMBERING

 

We who knew you,

miss you deep,

now that you’ve gone

to your long, long sleep.

 

But your face

in the morning sky,

your smile

in a rainbow,

your laughter

on the wind,

will help in

our remembering.

 

Until comes

our final day,

when we too,

who are of

mortal clay,

pass far beyond

the dim dark veil,

and meet you

once again..

 

In loving memory

Jerry “Topper” Toppazzni (1931-2012)

John William Rice (May 1-2012)

My dear friend, Jerry passed away a few days ago. He was with out a doubt a great man. His many accomplishments included, playing for the Boston Bruins, running the best bar in Sudbury, winning coach of the year, while coaching the Sudbury Wolves

I wrote this poem to honour him

 

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A Snowflake on Ramsey

A tiny water drop caught by natures capricious hand, and taken to places high, there to lie until touched by frosty breath, it finds a surreal death, and is forged into a crystalline lattice, pristine white.

Now feather light, and carried by a winter wind, it drifts through a dark stormy, cloudy sea, lands on white hatted waves, melting quick, it becomes what it used to be, a part of something greater than its self, a part of something forever free.

 

 

 

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Filed under A poem for the people, Literary

In Times Passed by

Tinselled tree, garland mistletoe, golden lamplight gleaming soft on sparkling snow.

Taffy pulled, piny wreaths so neat arraigned, gaily decorated with candles and candy canes.

Stockings stuffed, now all that remains are presents to wrap in tissue bright, and tie tight with dainty bow, and  place beneath green bows spreading wide, there to wait for morning light, there to wait for children’s wonder and delight.

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Looking Glass of War

I looked,
into the looking glass
of war
and looking
back at me
through the misty eyes
of time,
the demented, decimated
faces of the dead.

Old soldiers,
who surrendered
their last breath,
on bloody battle fields,
so many
years before.

I looked through
the looking glass
of war,
into distant
fields of green.
Into the eyes
of the young.

Young soldiers
waiting,
waiting for the call.

Do they think?
Do they dream?
Dream of
some distant glory?

Do they believe,
that a bullet
could ever
wear their name?

As they play,
on football fields,
on football fields of green.

As they play
in a time,
when tomorrow
is a thing
that’s never been.
Do they feel,
the bullet?
The thrusting
of cold
bayonet steel?

Do they feel
shrapnel from
a closely
hidden bomb?
Do they image
the medals
they will win?

Do they see
each comrade,
each brother,
each and everyone,
being welcomed
to warm wonder
of home?

Heroes of
a brilliant,
noble, victory.

Will they ever be,
ready for
the horror,
the reality?

I looked
deep, deep into
the looking glass
of war.

I looked long,
I looked intently,
until
I could look no more.

 

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