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| Q44: Poetry prayers by a "babe".. Poetry prayers written as a very young lad.
The purpose of showing readers a poem written at age 16, is to encourage your journey in Jesus.
One does not begin knowing much of salvation. It is a journey of growing. We live by the experiences we are trained by.
And wisdom, like training, takes time.
This poem was written between 1974 and 1977. I would be aged 16,
in my second year at high school.
The one we publish for readers, is an ode to my Grandparents, who I loved dearly.
The poem is also a simile parallel of many scripture themes. We will leave you to find.
The Author rewrites a little, for privacy.
I INTRODUCTION
Soft sleep sails across the skys,
Pale shadows cry,
Silken clouds shades the sigh,
While earth swirls by,
Nature's sucked high,
Slothfully sinking away to die.
Oceans roar across the bays,
Waters subtle knife,
It takes life silently away,
Sea shells sound a little say,
But shrinks her life,
As uncaring eyes pass each day.
Sparta sails the modern seas,
Drowning dead Emma,
As cities eat God's manna,
Aged souls do as they please,
Science holds the data,
While we watch the martyr,
Softly sounds squeak sweetly,
In Satan's large cementery,
Some hold loved ones dearly,
Winds circle them nearly,
God's angels fervently see,
Grandparents, in family unity.
II
O' rolling river,
O' rolling life,
T'is a story of a young wife,
Who was born from a large family,
With love and much harmony,
Love is a river,
And to this young wife,
It flows feverishly through her life.
For waterfalls and lillies...
Glass paths where ripples strife.
Dragons drag, drinkers drink,
Drunken bums are mad,
He would gorge to brink,
Married a maiden, children he sowed,
Grandmother beared barely the load,
With nothing of plenty,
God knows those years went,
Poor in a shanty,
Her tears were spent.
Knights knavely killed,
The drunk just left her,
Poorly filled,
The kids kindly kept her.
Moonlit lillies trill quietly through,
Quivering over ripples as if to,
Cancel calmly this mirror,
For a warm face quivers nearer,
A man dressed traditionally true,
Rescues her watery life, anew;
Two rivers run slowly, an' shiver,
While a dam hold her sweetly,
As two lovers draw nearer.
III Life Studies
And through the depression
A family grew,
They strove on without a penny,
For a crust of bread,
With turnips for
Breakfast and supper's stew,
A Granddad held up their heads,
Their unity was not dead.
The boys worked hard,
To bring the family through.
With pride he ran a dunny run,
Sacrificing social fun,
To pay for life in you.
And with a family well alive,
This large man kept the dam fed.
But from two kids asthma blew
So they went West anew,
To help lessen the "flu",
The train smashed their goods,
They arrive with nothing new,
Like a dried up creek,
Working to your blue,
Sweat marks the cost,
And fills creeks too,
Under the drying hot sun,
Their unity pulled them through.
The family loved the outback,
The dusty red plains, the winter dew,
Where boys gather stones,
To get a porridge taste,
Instead of turnip stew.
But as times change,
They move back to the coast,
With a soft flowing love,
We gladly give to you;
Grandparents: a long earned beer:
But with this toast,
Some sons join the army,
While others marry,
The family flows faintly,
Down by the coast.
IV
Saints sighed, softly sleep;
One son dies, but memories keep,
Stones cannot mark, graves cannot show,
There is no plaque, his body winds blow,
Under a rose, only dust lies there,
No one knows the floating air,
For Jesus died coldly, His body bare;
Love rose holy, his angels were there.
Through those years, a river did run,
Madly at first, now softly spun,
For love lingers on and on,
Like a quiet, obedient pond.
Life is a river, a dam fed you some,
Clear was it's water,
Traditionally done,
Though stains bring death,
The river still rings,
And to your love,
Still we clings.
Ants all around,
In daily drowsy rings,
People madly in town,
Buying all sorts of things,
The social community,
Rules our lives today.
Are we born with immunity?
Do we have any say?
The queen quietly rules,
The turmoils they rage,
We live in whirlpools,
Few rivers runs this age.
As ants people die,
Some are wed,
We may live in the skies,
But our lives are dead.
V CONCLUSION
Soft sweet singing,
Glass paths of sheeting,
A slow slowing mirror floating.
Two people softly sailing,
Two rivers trifley trickling,
Through Satan's coating.
As streaming branches we wander,
As swirling ships we drown,
The insect's life is a number.
Some may grow stronger,
In your reflection,
We are found.
A silvery mirror lake,
In majestic slumber;
You leave your watermark.
Now we as a family run,
Still to your upbringing,
Others know not our sound.
God sends a rainbowed rain,
Family unity comes into being.
Water is life,
We carry on your life,
Young rolling streams,
Now washed anew.
The Author likes the lines "Life is a river, a dam fed you some, clear was it's water traditionally done".
Scripture too is loaded with poetry. Poetry is about writing word pictures, packaging much into few word pictures.
From the Divine Family flows the Father via the agency of the Holy Spirit, and personally stored and presented by a Divine Being in human shape, our Saviour.
Our Father in heaven, what a joy to know you are a picture of a Divine Family,
thank you for making me proud of my Grandfather,
who was a saviour to a family in need,
just as we also have a Saviour,
we support His Family. Amen Next, consider some special poetry prayers.
Poetry Prayer theme
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