FREE POETRY incl. over 200 story poems.
May God touch the pen that its message may touch the heart...
"I want to thank all those who come from around the world and read the poetry that God has inspired me with to make the world a more pleasant and peaceful place.
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As breezes blow us out in drove,
we utter, flutter through the grove.
But smile among God's treasure trove!
---
Lightning flashes plunder under
clouds as thunder comes asunder!
God's creation has me wonder...
The pounding showers seem to cower -
devouring this fragile flower.
God's creation, massive power!
And don't forget as sunsets hit -
more storm clouds threaten as of yet.
God's creation, sopping wet.
The darkness heightens, but thereafter
sunlight brightens morning after -
as God creates a child's laughter!
The bud, the rose, the bloom of it -
then growth again, should He permit.
God's creation - so exquisite!
And from it all, great waterfalls.
Still I crawl. My stature stalls -
as all of God's creation calls...
from two dead logs which laid across,
together nailed to form a cross.
Creation's gain brought Heaven's loss.
But garden rose of deep maroon
with monarch's flutter from cocoon -
sees virgin birth returning soon!
Oh, how all nature seems to shout,
"We tell you what it's all about!"
Creation lives - without a doubt!
Should I have known this all along?
Now tell me, "Where do I belong?"
Creation prays for Heaven's song!
And choreographed, they wave in wind -
two willows whisper standing twinned.
God's creation without end.
The nations' notions have accrued -
turned up-side-down, this world skewed.
Ever endeavor servitude.
Am I sincere and persevere
or rather simple breezes fear -
through year and year and year and year?
While every nation brings taxation -
God through faith, brings grace, salvation!
Praise Him! Sanctification!!
---
As breezes blow us out in drove,
we utter, flutter through the grove -
but smile among God's treasure trove!
My flower bed had been prepared...
With sacrificing toil -
I'd cultivated, fertilized
the rich, organic soil.
Surrounded by a picket fence,
(a short one painted white) -
it seemed to frame a picture that
was sure a pretty sight.
But absent, garden's bloom.
Though warmth came with the sunshine
and moisture with the rain -
and though I pulled out every weed,
my work was all in vain.
Now why were my vast working hours
I knew were loving deeds,
all proving to be futile -
without mere flower seeds?
Where was the garden's bloom?
"For God so loved the world, that
He gave His only Son..."
The time was past to plant the seed
to see a job well-done.
So flawless is my garden now
with seeds set in the ground -
but faith must wait for grace to touch
the heart until He's found.
Await the gardens bloom...
Then when I least expect results
I see some little sprouts -
that grow from living water as
mere souls begin to shout.
Nights' dark and patient hours end.
The day brings joyous light.
The days have grown His blessings vast -
with souls so vibrant, bright!
Now watch God's garden bloom!
From children, teens and fathers,
from grandma's faithful heart -
from every corner of the earth
watch great compassion start!
For every blooming flower proves
that grace and faith survive,
that Jesus lives within our hearts -
that God is still alive!
Oh, tiny bud here on this branch
and many more that have no chance
in this dark world that no one sees -
the lost and silent "least of these".
They're covered up by others full,
with blooming blossoms, beautiful -
that dance so freely in the wind -
but oh, they do not know they've sinned.
The 'winners' flaunt their daily lives
when pride's indulging self arrives -
ignoring young and helpless, those
with hungry gut and dirty clothes.
While all those 'winners' seem to choose
different blossoms, different hues -
the traffic, loud, goes flying by.
...Seems no one cares which makes me cry.
But time will tell on judgement day
when all their wealth will have no say.
Still, God allows both rain and mud
and nourishes this tiny bud.
Oh, tiny bud here on this branch
and many more that have no chance
in this dark world that no one sees -
the lost and silent "least of these".
"Hey, we will tax small businesses and little grandmas too -
and we will tax your neighbor and we'll give it all to you."
said he, the tiny termite in intimidating clothes -
but I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.
"And then we'll tax the smokers and the drinkers and the fat -
so would you have some int'rest in a program such as that?"
said he, the brazen termite with the velvet tongue that flows -
but I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.
"And here's another program that will pay when you get old -
so let us take your money now." ('A pittance', I was told).
He brought some little friends along who lined up straight in rows -
but I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.
"It's just a little program that will help when grandma's sick-
so let us take some money now." ...and wow, they took it quick.
And so the termites marched along but said, "We won't impose."
Oh, I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.
"It's just a 'rainy day' fund that's for you when unemployed-
so let us take some money now. This tax, you can't avoid.
And so, more termites gathered- and, in fact, they came in droves -
Oh, I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.
"It's just a little highway that will hurry you to work-
so let us take some money. Please don't be a stingy jerk."
And so, the termites led me by my twisted, naive nose.
Oh, I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.
"It's just a little food stamp that will feed the little folk-
so let us take some money now. They're children. It's no joke."
And as the termites ate away, I didn't once oppose -
for I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.
"It's just a little missile that protects you during war-
so let us take some money now. You'll learn what it is for."
And so the termites taxed and spent- and that's how 'hot air' blows -
for I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.
"It's just to bail banks, et.al., who were too big to fail-
so let us take your money now or you will go to jail."
And so the termites ate away. No arguments arose.
for I was none the wiser and - that's how this story goes.
"It's just the way it is that there's no program for your loan.".
They told me, "Just go run along"- that I was on my own.
And so the termites ate and ate at anything they chose.
I wish I'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.
"It's just a little program for your care when you are sick-
so let us take some money now and we'll, your doctors, pick."
And so the termites ate their fill. Now I'm a slave to those -
I wish I'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.
"It's just to pay for things you get- these programs we design -
so give us all your money now or we will levy fines.
And so the termites ate away and greater damage shows.
I wish I'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.
"It's just to pay entitlements and int'rest on the debt-
and you must pay the IRS- and yes, this is a threat."
Then as they blamed us for this debt, they stepped right on our toes -
I wish we'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.
They've mortgaged off our Nation's Parks and too, Miss Liberty.
They've stripped her of her freedoms and her every dignity.
And then the fat 'ol termites left, but where? Nobody knows.
I wish I'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.
Those termite politicians? They took us for a ride -
with budgets in the trillions eating through our countryside.
And as they blame us for this debt, the 'money river' flows -
I wish we'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.
Now who defends each 'unborn child' who has to pay this debt -
or lobbies for the 'least of these' before they 18 get?
They punch me squarely in the face- then curse my bloody nose.
I know I am the wiser now. That's how this story goes.
This battle must be prudent as the termites eat us poor.
It isn't what we asked for but it's now a civil war.
We cannot run away from them and so our passion grows -
because we're all the wiser now. That's how this story goes.
This is a TRUE STORY POEM of horror, action and suspense.
It starts with a little 6 year old girl named "Jellee" (pronounced "jelly")
from Liberia, Africa (on the western coast) -
and ends when she is about 18 and having changed her name to Veronica.
I think you'll find out why...
I personally interviewed Veronica and helped begin writing her biography
which she is planning to entitle "Blooming From Roots". I name this poem the same.
Obviously I am not able to write her whole life's experiences in poetry form and her book will be more detailed -
yet I kept this poem fully factual
(and should be appropriate for the younger readers as well).
I have written it in 'first person' in present tense with permission.
I wish to thank Veronica (Jellee) Gabor for giving me permission
to publish this poem for my readers.
I hope you enjoy "Blooming From Roots".
---
Blooming From Roots
The night is very peaceful. Stars twinkle in the sky.
While God creates the beauty, man destroys - but why?
