Wayne Bowen Poems
|41.||I Hate To Love You||1/29/2010|
|43.||What Can I Do||12/11/2009|
|45.||My Father's House||12/11/2009|
|46.||A Penny's Worth||1/29/2010|
|47.||There Are No Tears In Heaven||12/11/2009|
|48.||Past Vs. Future||1/22/2010|
Comments about Wayne Bowen
The old country preacher stood to speak,
his broken voice sounding weak.
The worn, black bible in his hand
placed on the wooden pulpit stand.
Eyes of tears scan the faithful few,
friends and family in wooden pews.
The only sounds a cough or sneeze,
and blue jays calling in the trees.
Paper fans move to and fro while
impatient children beg to go.
All dressed in their Sunday best
here to lay their own to rest.
Flowing tears for memories past,
honor a life that did not last.
All good memories, nothing bad
a broken family all are sad.
Words of ...
One day I'll enter the most beautiful place,
and touch my Lord and see His face.
My pain and suffering in the past
in a place where time never last
There are no clocks or time to spend,
eternity has no beginning or end.
A place where I will live by grace
what took me so long to find this place?