Conclaves Of The Chosen Poem by John Ackerman

"Miri it is while sumer i-last
With foulës song;
Oc now neghëth windës blast
And weder strong.
Ei, ei, what this night is long,
And Ich with wel michel wrong
Sorwe and murne and fast", .
Drink deep to stand repeat
the sadness nor the mere gloom
puzzed in its concrete measured frenzy
a suggestion sets in high above the room

Chosen a gift mighty quest to pursue
shattered dreams evil schemes
a mighty fortress amidst the peril
remember me in days gone by
think of a time when you surely shined
the time when you looked to the sea
the thought of a homily to be set free
carry me through the notion of a barricade of love

nestled on the hands of God
take one step at a time you will certainly find
direct reflection in your destination
carry on wayward son having a bit of fun
relax and bask the the vast expanse of the ambiance
love is filled with cosmic visions
on the outside we are digging
look to help your brother out
Democrat, Independent or Republican
let's offer a whole new discovery
through lines of lasting faith
make no mistake

we need each other to show us the way home
through a notion of Pine combs and ways
God is enough in him we trust
God is for us in every way
taking time out to pray
through security
time well spent in thought