Divina Boulangé
Divina Boulangé Poems
That bitter night in Valley Forge stands above my other memories.
‘Twas winter, and the snowy winds whistled through the trees.
Gathered ‘round a dying fire, soldiers shivered from the night chill.
Few were sleeping; others keeping solemn vigil stood still.
...
Such simple words, yes. But, oh, how they bless!
They tenderly soften hearts hardened by life.
Strange how, though small, they are welcomed by all,
Bringing smiles to faces and an end to strife.
...
He was falsely accused
While Barabbas was excused.
He bore sin’s awful heavy shame.
Upon Himself, he took me blame.
...
“Crucify Him! Crucify Him! ” sounds the shout.
The mob grows louder as Pilate comes out.
The bound Man is led into the judgment hall
To be interrogated and condemned before all.
...
Punch! Smack! Kick! Slap!
It's amazing what the tongue can do.
Slicing, stabbing, degrading, hating,
Oh, yes! Words can hurt you!
...
You may hear the yelling; you may criticize the actions.
You may see the temper rising and recoil at the reactions.
But deep inside my frame, you don’t know what’s going on.
You don’t see the battle waging between my flesh and the Son.
...
The dazzling brightness of the morning sun;
The frightening darkness of gloomy midnight.
The inviting warmth of a cackling bonfire;
...
Divina Boulangé Biography
I've loved poetry since elementary when a teacher's aide held a poetry contest. And, although simple and somewhat absurd, my poem won first place! I write about a variety of things. Many of the poems I write are never seen by other's eyes. Some poems 'happen' as just a rush of emotions I'm feeling at the time. Others require time and sweat to accomplish! In any case, I enjoy poetry because it is simply a way to put my thoughts and feelings on paper in a way that helps other people understand me.)
The Best Poem Of Divina Boulangé
A Soldier Remembers
That bitter night in Valley Forge stands above my other memories.
‘Twas winter, and the snowy winds whistled through the trees.
Gathered ‘round a dying fire, soldiers shivered from the night chill.
Few were sleeping; others keeping solemn vigil stood still.
At the edge of the encampment, a movement caught my eye.
A dark form disappeared behind a bush; could it be a spy?
Quietly I rose and, following the footprints, slipped into the night.
A trail of bloody snow was all that I could discern in the moonlight.
As I reached the clearing, I saw a crumpled figure bent low.
George Washington, my general, was kneeling in the snow.
Thinking he was injured, I began to run to his side,
But a whispered prayer from the general stopped me in my stride.
Did the mighty general pray for relief from his own pain?
Was the prayer to God one for a military gain?
No, this prayer warrior was more concerned about his men.
He asked for their comfort and for help from heaven.
Selflessly, quietly, he prayed for their strength to grow.
His tears, shed in love for his comrades, fell to the snow.
General Washington prayed for each soldier by name.
As I listened, a sweet sense of God’s protection came.
I felt washed in peace and rejuvenated in might
To know that God’s man wouldn’t give up the fight.
I slowly returned and by the fire solemnly sat
Glancing around, I saw each man asleep on his mat.
The prayer of God’s saint was again of much avail.
Rest was given; peace bestowed; God’s love did not fail.
And amidst wars and fightings and a wintry hell,
With sweet reassurance, I knew deep inside – all is well.
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4/24/2024 4:48:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
