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What I Have
I am a have and a lot I've got,
Not as much as many but more than not,
Riches may come. They will go.
Does the weight of my estate trouble,
Bow me low?
If I gave it all away
Then to The Father began to pray
Would He find my prayers more sweet
Because I begged upon the street?

What I have is mine until its gone.
Given, taken, found, lost.
Sold for a song, what did it cost?
As much as God gives, be it silver or time,
Is what I have, is what is mine.
His allow is what I have
And what I have is here and now.


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LeAvEs
How they have fallen,
Laying thick,
Pressing the jostling grass
Under them.
Obliterating it from sight.
Their browns and yellows brighter
Than the grey above.

Achieving a moment of glory,
In death a dominance.
Looking up to freed branches
Framing veiled light,
Had they thought to fly,
Letting go their source of life?

How they have fallen!

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Blurred

In evening light at still of day
Shadows are sweeping time away.
A man through his window sees it all,
The fading blue, the shadow fall.

At the upper edge of vision
Perfect pearl, beautiful precision.
As hidden jewel in tapestry,
Shines the orb through the trees.

Two thirds round white edged, sharp and clean.
The last third blurs into the unseen.
Precise imperfection, edged and blurred
But The Pearl Setter has not erred.

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Unsung Heroes (sestina)

Unsung heroes find at last renown and reward.
Unsung they found not renown.
Unsung they toiled and battled till their last
Breath went out. They left to find
Themselves well welcomed to spacious homes where heroes
Sing of those who where unsung.

Below before, to come by bread was toil unsung.
Honesty brought small reward
And villains contemptuously mocked quiet heroes.
Unsung they found not renown.
The subtle voice saying soft, “Bow and fortune find.
Why be always poor and last?

Bow, forget these thoughts of resisting to the last.
Let your war songs be unsung.
Join the dancing throng, wild and enchanting music find
And yourself with much reward.
Bow, your song will be sung, you will find much renown.
Fortune not truth makes heroes.”

These words, this war, burnishing the hope of heroes,
Their metal tempered to last.
Despairing, knowing they merit not renown,
Remembering The Unsung,
The suffering of those for whom truth is reward,
They are helped more strength to find.

In oppressions and defeats, travailing they find
The narrow path of heroes.
Unto death were they loved. Love their unearned reward.
Bright love seen clearly at last,
Enabling them to continue in war unsung.
Here they found still not renown,

But through great heaven's halls and hills rings their renown.
There their well welcome they find
With fathers, friends, daughters, sons, all before unsung,
Gathered by grace, all heroes.
One band, the brave and the strong, the weak and the last,
Receive with joy their reward.

Renown now surrounded for all time these heroes.
After hard war they find for all time peace at last.
The Unsung have rich reward.

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Nathaniel's Villanelle

Now welcome into this world little one.
You know no-one, nothing yet,
Yet from Him who knows all you come.

Your father, your mother also become
What they will never forget.
Now welcome into this world little one.

Asleep deep within yourself, new born son,
You know no hazard, no test.
Yet from Him who knows all you come.

Soon begin your first smiles, first playing fun.
Mixed with first niggles and frets.
Now welcome into this world little one.

Soon to show and quest this life's conundrum
That for all mankind is set.
Yet from Him who knows all you come.

Rest awhile till the time is right to run
For reward, and grace to get.
Now welcome into this world little one.
From Him who knows all you come.

>>>>>>><<<<<<<

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Starting Blocks

I was born in nineteen forty four
When black and white films were the norm
And the black and white bloody world war
Was in the last bloody phase of the storm.

But what does a babe know of such things?
A mother's breast is all that it cares.
Her steady gaze to bask in,
Her voice to soothe its tears.

As child I saw the bomb torn sites,
War blight occupying city streets.
Their berubbled mess was the norm. Already
Begreened, beflowered before my beginning.

My father had been killed, my mother said,
By a left over mine at sea.
I wondered, What was a father?
And whether we were having jam for tea.

Oh the battered, scattered continent
Painfully climbing out of the wreck.
Great Victoria's Empire spent and overspent
Plodded to its end but did not bow its neck.

But what would a boy know of it?
From the high trees his dominion below
So pleased him. Hedgerow and fields heaven's carpet
At night the bright starry sky heaven's show.

As a schoolboy I bent and picked potatoes
And learnt what money was worth.
I marvelled that in the earth food grows
And that all life and living gives birth.

From such beginnings comes all my seeing.
The starting blocks of this unfinished man.
I thank You Lord God for my being,
For all this life’s uncomfortable span.

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Ode for the Children of Eden

Oh daughters of Adam and sons of Eve,
That garden so pleasant so freshly made,
How many the years since we did leave?
From there spoke a serpent deep in the shade.
From deep in the shade of many hued trees,
With glittering skin and glistening eye,
Charming our mother with tongue cloven speech.
“Surely you may eat whatever you please?”
“Eat! Eat what's forbidden. You will not die.”
So deep from the shadows came that first lie.
And from a low mound the raven did screech.

Oh creatures of soil that colours us through,
Good earth was given to shape and to bless.
But we have misshapen, all is askew,
No-one can straighten not even the best.
Still the lie echoes from proud coated men.
“We'll do as we please for good and for bad.”
“No God will tell us, instruct, or prevent.”
“No God will harm us, evict, or condemn.”
Down through the ages this vaunting ballad,
Sung by rebels and waved like a flag,
Has darkened our paths with evil intent.

Good earth still gives good grain and fruit to feed.
Still good heaven shines with glorious light.
Then why hollow faces pinched by need
While glistening gold is blinding our sight?
Ever grand schemes to bring in the new dawn,
Frauding and failing, great minds do their best.
Though wolves howl freedom still ever we're slaves,
Like herds to market, like sheep to be shorn.
Herdsmen and shepherds what is their interest?
So easy to blame for all our unrest
But thinking we're beasts like beasts we behave.

Oh sheep without shepherd, wandering lost,
How think you we came to this stony field?
Whose home was that garden (though we were dust)
Where our wayward heart was first revealed.
Where heeding the serpent's cloven tongue talk
Brought just judgement on our wayward race,
Ever to wander, to toil and to die.
Divorced from our Maker now we walk.
How far from His Holy Presence displaced.
Is your desire to see His dear face?
Creature of clay for your sin do you cry?

Children of Eden lift up your sad heads!
The way to the tree of life is open!
The promised one came who hung and bled
And by His death the fell curse is broken.
Return! Return to the One who made you!
He has ransomed with His own Son's blood.
Free pardon, new birth and life eternal
Take with your heart, why refuse, why doubt you?
None merit, none deserve but God is good.
Hard hearts we have and will not, but God would.
So by grace comes faith and escape from Hell.

Oh let there be praising and joyful song!
Let all creation bow down to The Lamb!
He is The Shepherd, in Him we belong.
He is the healing, His blood is the balm.
Let the trees clap their hands and shadows flee.
Let the earth give it's grain and heaven it's light.
Let the children dance and shout their reply.
No more by the serpent enslaved are we.
Against this deceiver we stand and fight.
We live for ever, this time it is right
For God has said it and God does not lie!

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This is the News

We take your faces to paper our walls.
We take your stories to hang in our halls.
We are the presenters, presenting the truth.
Believe us or not, it's up to you.
But you do.

We take your thoughts and turn them around.
We tell you which investments are sound.
We are the impartial, in-telly-gents.
Believe us or not, it's up to you.
But you do.

Press the button, turn up the sound.
The soothing voice is bound to drown
The savage suffering, all non new-speak.
Targets will be met and death will retreat.
We're sure. Aren't you?

We present the facts, do our best to entertain,
Give a balance picture for the balanced brain.
No hidden agenda, no party line.
Ah! That's all folks. Sorry,
Seems we've run out of time.

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Just now discovered your poems afish, a delight to read. In many ways our themes overlap...maybe it's our generation.
Thanks Cross note, your pleasure is my pleasure.
So which generation is that? 'Forever young' as yowled Mr. Dylan or old enough to know better or (depending on one's mood) in the waiting room/on the home straight? :)
I just read your testimony at The Mercy Seat. Yea we have many experiences in common. :(
Wondrous is His mercy, grace and uniqueness in dealing each saved sinner. Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble.
Go well and write on.
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