Inspired By Thaxted

Dawn sweep away the perils

That chided me in sleep

Praying and crying out, though nasal

My Saviour, He hears me weep


Turned on side, pillowing my fears

The stillness, so loud, envelops

Reminded of a hymn to repress the tears

Gathering courage, to never give up hope


The day is bursting through

And the remnants of night, they fade

Flee away you woe, perhaps one or two

For today we choose joy, and will not trade

Undoing

To know that, she’s had you

Over and over

I want to understand

When you say you’re committed

Just how many times must I have you

To teach your body something new?

I say that I’m fine, but these words…

Need undoing , revealing that I’m not

Blues

In a world of chaos

Some are choosing their blues

The big ones, the little ones

And they ponder in recluse

So be wary and considerate

That you know not their fate

For some have slept

Only to wake and walk

Walking, but not existing

For some have dreamt

A thousand dreams, yet still sulk

Moping in misery

And for some, they are hoping

For a glimpse of a miracle

Hands clasped tightly

As they mumble prayers of petition

And as for the writer,

She cries out for reassurance

Tonight, feeling weighted more

By the littlest of blues

Tower

Tower of refuge

They say You are

But to get to You,

Is going to take some effort

Lord be my helper

As I find my way to You


Tower of restoration

I’ve heard You are

But I’m deceived,

By the people so few

Lord quench the lying voices

That stay manipulating my thoughts


Tower of Purpose

Stay right where You are

Because I’m not losing You this time

Be it bend or bump on the way

I’m coming to You Lord

Sometime between sunset and sunrise

Night of…

Night of laments

So why do I see the stars?

For every mistake, a choice I made


Night so contoured

Why do I sense hope?

The haze, slowly fading into the horizon


Night, of…restoration

Certainly must be

Regrets are in the distant

How many more sighs

Gone are the hours of yesterday

And dawn, knocks behind the window pane

Before we let her in,

There are some matters to resolve

A worrisome heart and a pondering mind


Loud is the silence

But louder is The Voice

Beseeching and reassuring,

That we worry not about the morrow

And spare some minutes to rest


But stubborn as we are,

Owing to our human nature

We toss, turn and fret

And try to reconcile with hope,

With one question taunting, “How many more sighs, Lord ?”

Haze Art

The wretched awake

From nights of despair

The elixir bottle down to drops

There is the haze

To remind of pressing affairs

That life has seized our props

Heavy are the sighs we make

Pleading to our avengers, helpless whispers of ‘Sirs’

And by eve, the fallen tears must see the mop

Sleep

When the hours are long gone

And we ache in our bones

A place of rest, we find to repose

So we close our eyes, and curl our toes

And for some hours or more, our troubles subside

But in the middle of the night, we awaken wide

And are reminded once again of our pending perils

Wishing we could sleep forever, take some sleeping pills

To forget all our worries and put them on hold

But it continues years and years, till we are frail and old

Realizing then, the fallacies on TV we’ve been sold

Only maybe, we’d be closer to a forever sleep

Shutting our eyes, one final time, with all our uncertainties buried away deep.

Elsie

Azure Tides

I pray the azure tides meet you

Where you would feel through and through

Maybe then you’d steer with surety

 

I pray the azure tides bear not stormy billows

That match the fog and daze your head carries

For uncertainty, is a boat without oars

 

I pray the azure tides wouldn’t be too long

That I go to meet them elsewhere

What a shame then, that you and I could have been.

Beauty Is Beast

Listen good to her whispers faint,

Be fooled not by her guise, sly

Not all that glitters, is gold

For a past once haunted a saint

And there is such a thing,

That Beauty is beast.

 

She wears her heart on her sleeve

And in the depth of night, cries herself to sleep

Not all is told in a picture’s caption

Her cupboard of skeletons is creaking.

And there is such a thing,

That Beauty is beast.

 

Trouble in paradise, yet supposed nonchalance,

That rainbow of a smile veils her gloom.

Not all roads, have been to greener pastures,

She holds all in, but the cracks dance

And there is such a thing,

That Beauty is beast.