Poem: A Table Not My Own (Revised)
I’ve been revising some of my poetry. Below is one of my earliest pieces. Enjoy!!
A Poetic Prayer of Joy: Our Father
I normally post poems via a different website. I am, however, going to begin to include my poems – as well as the poetic expressions of others (both modern and historical pieces) – as a part of this site.
I believe we will never disrupt our normal routines if we don’t take the time to reflect on and enjoy the artistic expression of poetry.
You will find my latest work, Our Father, on my site. I hope the piece enriches your life and encourages you as you go! If …
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Merry Christmas!! A Poem from Longfellow
Christmas Bells
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807 – 1882
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each…
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A Poem: Ascension Day, by Malcolm Guite
Ascension Day, Malcolm Guite
We saw his light break through the cloud of glory
Whilst we were rooted still in time and place
As earth became a part of Heaven’s story
And heaven opened to his human face.
We saw him go and yet we were not parted
He took us with him to the heart of things
The heart that broke for all the broken-hearted
Is whole and Heaven-centred now, and sings,
Sings in the strength that rises out of weakness,
Sings through the clouds that veil him from …
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Word/Quote of the Week — Surrender and Emily Dickinson
SURRENDER
A poem by Emily Dickinson
Doubt me, my dim companion!
Why, God would be content
With but a fraction of the love
Poured thee without a stint.
The whole of me, forever,
What more the woman can, —
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last delight I own!
It cannot be my spirit,
For that was thine before;
I ceded all of dust I knew, —
What opulence the more
Had I, a humble maiden,
Whose farthest of degree
Was that she might,
Some distant heaven,
Dwell …
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