Denis Martindale Poems

Our Father hears each prayer we make,
He listens with great love,
He listens for His Own Name's sake,
Upon His Throne above...
...

Our Father hears each prayer we make,
He listens with great love,
He listens for His Own Name's sake,
Upon His Throne above...
...

There are those that sit and read a while,
Yet others choose to write,
Sometimes they weep, sometimes they smile,
Regardless, day or night...
...

I watch in wonder day by day,
R-Mornings has it all,
A time to really, really pray,
To seek a miracle!
...

When Jesus Christ was led away
Towards Golgotha's shame,
The angels stared, amazed that day,
The world no more the same...
...

I am the writer of each piece, the captain at the helm,
The one in charge who sets release the words from every realm...
So be it Heaven, be it Hell, or merely middle Earth,
I am the writer who must tell the length and breadth and worth...
...

I saw the writer in my dream,
The pen and paper, too,
As if they acted as a team,
Some writing task to do...
...

If only I, with all my heart,
Could bless her heart in turn,
So that she had a brand new start,
From poetry to learn,
...

And what is death to me?
It is but an unexplored land beyond the mountain view,
unseen, yet its presence awaits the last days...
To me, death is but part of an eternal journey,
...

The cheetah cub was way too cute,
Despite its face, so sad,
Yet with my camera, I could shoot
Something so it looked glad...
...