Beggar on the Street of Love

From: Jenny Morris with additions

In my life
I have been
a rich girl given favours
All the world
at my feet
in its' many different flavours

I sucked it all dry
now I realise

I'm a beggar on the street of love
I'm a beggar on the street of love
I'm a beggar on the street of love
beggar on the street of love

In my mind
I have seen
the courage of the Saviour
All the world
incomplete
until He comes to save her

Ah the dove has cried
now I know why

I'm a beggar on the street of love
I'm a beggar on the street of love
I'm a beggar on the street of love
beggar on the street of love

God is in every thing

God is in every thing.
In  every gift of string.
The cord, the twine
is yours and thine.
In every gift of a little flower
lies at its' heart a mighty power.
For the turning of the spindle
the twining of the wick in candles
makes what light that shines.
The holy and divine.

How do I light a lasting glow?

How do I light a lasting glow

that does not die as one grows old.

As a candle that burns all through the night

to keep the warmth and hearten the eye.

Although the candle in the morning dies

it has at least lived a life.

Shelter from the storm

Ride through the storm.
The wind is cold, the sun is warm.
Brother sun and sister moon
when shall the flowers bloom.
All through the day and throughout the night.
I watch and wonder at the sight.
The pink, the tan,
the beige and white,
throughout the day and all through the night,
something remains that is still hidden.
Laying beside the driven snow.
The tulip that miraculously grows.
Not easy to see.
A great mystery.
Somehow growing beside the road.
The road that leads to market and all that is sold.
Standing still so as not to be disturbed.
Not bidding but owning its' own word.
For to say that this is mine for a nice price
is un-given and not given right.
For to say that all is to share.
That at least is only being fair.

The flame

The weather drives me back
The sky is turning black
The wind and rain
has come again
The candle flickers
The spirit quickens
The flame is weak
My soul to keep
It burns on
and lights the night long.

Gods' word, what is it worth

Gods' word; what is it worth?
It is by his word that I am given birth.
Gods' dove;  what are you little bird.
The seal of the gift of the holy spirit.
Friendship like un-tarnishing gold,
a gift that stays with you as time grows old.
And doing what Gods' Law says has much merit.
I obey the Law in all ways that I saw,
and in all ways that I see.
I ride the waves and know myself
and tame the cruel sea.

I am well

I am well when
you treat me well
I am well when
you treat me as a friend
with love that never ends
Sometimes this is not easy
but it should never be impossible
Health and wellness
has less to do with
exercise and medication
than with respect and love
with which I am governed

Sunrise

Sunrise on a cloudless sky
Morning and I rise
The day has begun
and the heat comes
with the noon day sun
Day heat is long and
burning. So hot the sand.
In to the water of the
sea. Up to my neck no further.
Comes the setting of the dusk
beautiful till the end
and my friend comes again.

When

When the light is perfectly clear
All darkness fades and disappears
When the light from your eyes
hold not any disguise
The beauty is plentiful and precise

For the seer sees his own heart
reflected in many parts
in the world around
subtle and confounded

For the joker uses his own life
to make fun of
and here are laughs aplenty
The traveller journeys home
from where ever went he

Would

Would that I hold the hand of Desire
and open the door to Summer
Could I make the man I aspire
and walk the world without slumber

Spring tears of rain
Summer has come again
Autumn warm and forlorn
Winter has come and gone

So the threads are weaved two by two
coming to conceive the grand design
How can love survive, the budding anew,
survive, if I am drunk on old wine

Careful is the maker that no sinner over there take her
Knowledge the eye of the storm that feeling can forewarn

If you think you can see better than the goose that flies with the moon
If you dare to set free the cobra with out having a mongoose
then you reap what you sow
fangs and webs you will know

For who ever leaps where angels fear to tread
the fool will make and eat bitter bread