An angel set the sky ablaze
With an orb of crimson fire—
The smoke that rose was a purple haze
That spread o’er the flaming sky.
...
I have a treasure, dear friend of mine.
I have cherished it long, you know.
Really, it’s a part of me;
I am ready to share it though.
...
*** One of my Christian themed poems.***
The Potter took a lump of clay and shaped it with His hands.
And when ‘twas finished all did say “’Tis lovelier than all.”
...
Softly the rhythm beats, pulses and beats;
Quietly the music notes fly.
Like a charmer it’s magical melodies
Mesmerize— enchant—lead away.
...
***One of my Christian themed poems. Allegory.***
Strolling down a sylvan path,
...
The Christian does not fear thee, Death,
Nor does he dread the grave;
For thou art just a means of wealth
That one day he shall have.
...
How beautiful is creation
On this warm, sunny day.
How grand to see God’ creatures
His own sweet words obey!
...
*- Once more, a challenge from my sister. She gave me the title and said 'Write something. I know you can do it.' With her around, I'll probably never get writers' block! ! ! -*
In the back of my mind, though I’m smiling,
...
I look at clouds of gray and white
And yearn to float away.
It would be nice to sit on one,
For all the livelong day.
...
I remember the look on his dear face as he told me “I love you.”
I can see myself, heartbroken, saying that I loved him too.
I remember that I held his hand while he whispered “Goodbye, dear.”
...
Do you remember love?
It was so long ago;
Yet I remember dearest one,
And I want you to know.
...
A dainty cup and saucer grew upon a stem.
And pretty little ruffles adorned the both of them.
The China set was yellow and gently washed by rain—
Of course by April showers the cup is filled again.
...
I like it when the days are grey—
But not quite black and white—
When rain descends to wash away
The darkness and the light.
...
The sun shone down through the window—
I thought I saw you there.
But it was just a memory
The light put out with care.
...
*-I was up late, and my sister challenged me to write a poem. I told her I could not possibly do so on a whim, without any 'inspiration, ' but she persisted. She said, 'Call it 'The Light'.' So here is my poem- written on a whim, very quickly done. Hope it turned out alright! ! -*
...
Thousands upon thousands are slain
Each year, are killed in cruel, cold blood.
Thousands cry out, but to no avail—
They are attacked with cruelest hate.
...
I have loved poetry ever since I was little. I wrote my first poem when I was 8 or 9 and have never stopped since then. I hope to have a volume of poetry published one day, and if it isn't too ambitious to be reality, to be published before I graduate high school. One of my favorite poets is Emily Dickinson, and I sometimes try to combine her style with my own. I hope that can be seen in my work. You should notice also, that I love using the simile as well as the metaphore.)
Sunset
An angel set the sky ablaze
With an orb of crimson fire—
The smoke that rose was a purple haze
That spread o’er the flaming sky.
Then black was the night, like ashes
Remaining after so long a kindling.
And here and there in tender dashes
Were ember-stars, pale and cold-appearing.
I saw a new angel glide down
And set the moon, like a candle, in the air—
The moonbeams, like a mother’s gown,
I cling to in my memory.
And the warmth of the fire that burned the night
Warmed the hearts of those like me.
And the moonlight lit our hearts with a light
That can only be named as joy.