Skip to comments.~The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread~XXII
Posted on 08/28/2005 2:26:23 AM PDT by Soaring Feather
Good morning, Kathy.
Wonderful hymn for today. Thank you so much.
We pray for protection of our nation and her deployed troops.
Good morning, Miss Feather! Congratulations on the happy anniversary!
Reposting to new thread...
Silent shifts of luminecences
brings forth His day of Faith again
and we are given lessons in joy and pain
by the caring heart of the Innocent
Let all who see, thank Him for sight
Let all who hear, thank Him for much
Let all who feel, thank Him for touch
Let all who think, thank Him for insight
Let all who bow in humble faith, feel grace
and share it with an open heart so free
for them we gift all about as it should be
until the day we see His gentle face.
1,142 posted on 08/28/2005 1:09:20 AM EDT by WayzataJOHNN
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Special thank you. ;-]
Another treasure from the most recent thread.
La Enchiladita graciously gave permission to repost this poem.
HAPPY 2nd ANNIVERSARY TO THE DRAGONFLIES' LAIR!!!
(My regards and admiration to "Queenie" Ms. Bentfeather, to all you poets who are my inspiration...)
Gentleness seeks a gentle place
To rest awhile and ease the pace
Of daring and heroic deeds
Rest awhile and plumb the soul
Silenced by the rock and roll and crowds
And dust, by works harsh glare
Remember twilight, the hush
Of time suspended
Say hello to morning and hear
The reply in lairdom where kindred
Meet to sweeten grief and attendant
Woes, to wonder at wasps and
Beating wings --- perhaps of angels,
Perhaps of stings,
To roll in hay with childish glee,
To say I know knowingly.
Retreat and enter life more fully,
Be pebble, pond and ripple,
Be skimming dragonfly.
Be dreamer and dare
To rest awhile at the Lair.
1,116 posted on 08/27/2005 2:39:59 PM EDT by La Enchiladita (Remembering our Heroes today and every day. . . "Operation Gratitude")
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Sunrise in sadness
rolling this dream memory over,
the rhythms of darkness
it cannot heal pain.
Our fragile earth,
so blue from space,
gives us a berth,
albeit, a tenuous place.
Hurricane's show,how ineffectual we are
at combating Nature,
what say you now?
We're tossed around
like so much waste,
from Natural forces, and
yes, we fall flat on our face.
Those who advocate,
that we can control,
the awesome power unleashed,
well, it's all hyperbole.
Our time on this earth,
is an alloted amount,
so, beware Human Race,
We're only here, by Gods Grace.
Thank you for bringing my poem forward Miss Feather . . .I'm honoured!!!
Prayers going up for the People in New Orleans and the whole Gulf Coast . . . God be with you all.
Goodnight everyone . . . see you tomorrow.
Part of my job is seeing and hearing things I wished didn't happen, but know they will, as long as humans are all too human. This poem is a dark poem, more because its all too often part of someone's life then we might like to admit.
In the once comforting dark,
her large luminous eyes,
shine like ebony jewels bright,
like the tears on her tiny cheeks.
Her tiny fear so strong it reeks,
as she lies in the darkness in fright,
listening to her mothers painful cries,
until dawns first glimmering spark.
Like booze, arguments and anger flow,
words that are so strong they sting,
her parents vent their frustrations now,
and she lies in the dark in her own fear.
Fearing neither parent remembers whats dear,
cries of pain and anger together ring,
and in the dark room she hears the row,
somewhere near dawn comes the first blow.
A slamming door, her daddy is gone to work, or away,
and mommy is silent, so silent it all seems so wrong,
hours pass without end, and she is so hungry there,
then a big man in blue comes in and shakes his head.
A lady took her away, for mommy couldnt, she said,
so strangers would have to give her some loving care
daddy she never saw again, or heard his go-to-sleep song,
they said he had a terrible debt, so he had to go away to pay.
She lies in a darkened room, and hears memories again,
wondering if they will ever go away like daddy did,
and fearing they might, and then shed be so alone,
and its so hard growing up in a strangers home this way.
She longs for someone to say its all ok, so she can play,
with mommy and daddy once again, her punishment to atone,
lost in the dark, she burrows under the covers, time she hid,
maybe one day she would hear the words that would end her pain.
Yes, there is this side of life
Some walk in darkness, beatings and strife
the scars are carried on the skin
but those inside, buried deep
are more painful than those
visible to the human eye.
The soul scars are etched
in tissue and flesh
the brain tapes are played
when not a request
They undermine the human
trying to do best
the negative tapes play
night and day
the tapes need a cleaning
a blank space to start
a new set of scenes a new guide
to follow sometimes it's hard
the learning new ways
but not impossible to
fly with the breeze.
"but not impossible to
fly with the breeze."
That is so very, very true, and the most powerful thing one can do!
Good morning Lady Fair
Good morning to you Johnn.
Trust you are hale and hardy this day.
We do hold that power don't we. Our wings have broken the surly bonds of earth.
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