ArmourQuill Hunter Poems

Some women like ‘the chase, ’ but not Rose Gardena.
Not very many women get to play, in so-called, man’s arena.
Hence, men implied, “It’s like the game of poker…,
They’re not allowed in the game; men see them as a joker! ”
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Avalon, Avalon, you enchanting cradle of clusters of hills and secrets galore…
My history forefather, of Joseph of Arimathea, was England’s spiritual floor.

Walk me in my wakening dreams, sweet autumn’s view, serenely strong…
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The glory of this Highlander’s imagination is of great expression
Inspiring a mind to drive itself completely to reflection
A watchman, for the Master’s vineyard, against the unclean ravens
Scary for the black plumage with their croaking cries, not of heaven
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I want to tell you of my second Love,
Of a churchs' impact from heaven above!
I'd grown up in such a small church.
Yet small groups can make for gossip, and worse.
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One-two steps, and more, with only you in mind
Dramatically, two-four and later six, you're divine

Our accordion rumba music for enchanting moves
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A knot can be tied by angels, what hinders an Angel’s voice?
Idolatry is~ loves the world more than God’s free-will choice.
You’ll tie hands of Angels if obstructing God’s written Word.
Give no voice to fears but Faith; think not His word’s absurd.
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I think that I shall never see again such a wondrous sight
It wasn't just an ordinary movie for the X-factor had it right
The magic of such tales, the sadness this lavished captive soul
Her stories enchantingly renowned, Miss Potter focused my goal
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In, and through, the Lilies, our Father’s love is everything
Running through the valley, of Father’s heart, I love to sing

Dancing past the darkness in the Light of Love His music rings
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Yeats said: How can we know the dancer from the dance?
Men oft’ do love an artist’s work, minus his personal stance.
I dance for excellence, not that I have perfectly attained.
I dance to rhythm and rhyme but not to distraction’s game.
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Show me the man with God’s own heart
Not one~, with gifting, who’ll later depart
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