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Trevor Toews Poems
He told me if I didn't have a sword That I should sell my garment and go buy one I did so, in obedience to my Lord And I felt better with a weapon to rely on
When the rain won't fall from the yellow sky And the last thin cloud goes twirling by And the land where I live is dry, dry, dry There's still a hallowed place where I
How can I speak of the present time, Without first a moment of silence for what has been? Can I tell you the meaning of today, And never utter mention of the past?
Trash or Treasure
Night has fallen, Long since the woods were stilled By the wind withdrawing to take another breath Even the owl stops calling
Beside the road, at a little gravel turnout, I stop and park Both the road ahead and the road back home seem dark I check the mirror, blurred be the tears that flow I'm at a loss, which way to go.
Tied To a Post
Tied to a post, He blinked his long lashes, Enjoying the hay as he chewed it. Comfortable
The world is turning clockwise, and the ticking doesn't stop. The rigid hands, like marching bands, move forward round the clock.
When It's All So Good
Why does my heart cry when it’s all so good? Why can’t I cherish life when I know I should? Over my shoulder I cast an uncertain glance Remembering times I failed and missed a chance
Have you ever been alone at night, Waiting for first light, And tried to will the earth to spin one minute faster? It didn’t change its pace at all by what you said.
Ciao Bella! They said to my little girl And I knew beauty looks the same All around the world.
A Universal Sign
The world should have a Universal Sign for 'I am SO, SO, SORRY! ' I hoped my hands, palms out, and pleading eyes sufficed When, lolligagging in a careless line
When I Arrive
When I arrive, in tattered garments, And tarnished armor, dented shield and sword. I’ll feel so filthy from the earthly battle, So weak and feeble and undone.
Everyone Is Home
Strange places I have been! I looked on with rapt intrigue Yet, everywhere is normal And everyone is home
Back when the mighty Prince of Peace Could be wrapped up tight in swaddling clothes, Back when His needs were the simplest comforts, Only a mother in love bestows.
Comments about Trevor Toews
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
He told me if I didn't have a sword
That I should sell my garment and go buy one
I did so, in obedience to my Lord
And I felt better with a weapon to rely on
And then they tried to take my Lord away
I gamely shook my shame and fear off
Stepped forward, drawing out my blade
I cut a soldiers ear off
I swelled with smug, aggressive pride
In the melee looked to Him for quick approval
But found He seemed to take the other side
Commanding me the bloody blade's removal
Why? Why put this brand new sword into its place?
Why then the urgency to go and buy it? ...