Thursday, 17 September 2015

Letters for Kathy Dallas

Potato chips are yesterdays' good idea The corn chips and salsa know I like watching capsicums I Pray, you fall so tenderly upon your knees You open your mouth and give me to please The world at your feet We rose to Love each other each time we meet So sweet a rose, I Love your nose You knows so much such and sucks I Love you dear, like animals, Bambi and Jesus Christ Animals are the cleanest animals on Earth How about cleaning your lussy cat Or wood you allow me to do that?

True, I live in Grace and eternal Hope

You are not U unless you are happy We want You to come through the doorway of the soul To relinquish the control of whom are not wholesome To have and to hold To cherish and show To be independent of external infernal accident And be one on three Have bend of knee In the See we are free Of all encumbrance which defiles I only wish you'd stay with me awhile Perhaps forever, I do knot know yet It would take forever to find out And I am immensely, Emmanuel, intensely interested to find You, true, without doubt I live within, desire that all win A windrow for to protect their windows, that with a view To all things new Poetry true be my guiding light

Sunday, 13 September 2015

All good things

My heart thing My Love of all things For not a thing was not created By God in six days By sacred strings By angels on a'wing were all things arrayed In stillness and in motion there is something special Some emotion In every thing. Things are celestial in origin. "It all comes from God and it will all return to God." And in all things there is some greater or lesser measure of good

Thursday, 10 September 2015

To meet you again

One pure vision to set you on a mission To set ships a'sailing across the sea One pure light to burn through the long night To symbolise to us the sacred promise of the Three The triple twined thread to bind things sacred To sew a new beginning in the sacrifice of Thee One quiet morning Destiny never turning from its' mark. The son separated from His Mother Mary The stillness of the moment Separated waiting in torment till darkness truly came to the world. Dead upon a tree For three days in a timeless state Dripping water upon the face of the ether. To Sheol to meet Charon. Who is fair for his fee If the payment is good and all parties understood the journey through the under world you do not want to see And to a bright new life of your choosing. Same wife. For the eternal bond lasts through all lives. For ever eternally .

Wednesday, 9 September 2015

Sing forever more

The song of the trees The melody of the stones The experience in Thee For I am not alone Not alone in Your creation Not alone in being created Together we are a nation Together we are dedicated For we are united in being Yours Always and forever with a cause A gift pure and binding Of no other kind in quality. Of none other do I seek Than to be that kind that is humble, that is meek. That is delicate, that is strong Yet that is fragile, agile, yet weak For in the song of the trees The singing is soft and tender The melody of the stones is as if trying to wander As if guided by a Higher note As if it were God who wrote the score. A singing of an eternal Love. A Love forever more .

Passion Grace and Fire

In the Passion of the Christ
the flower in the radiance of the sun
blooms. Till the fading of the son, in death did He His Fathers' will. And in the grip of darkness and night the Father opened those fingers held tight. And loosened His son to life again, unburdened of stain. To Grace everlasting. To every good thing. A dance upon fields of joy. And the son shall come again to set Fire to the hearts of men. For all must be in good friendship. A'come to worship the Lord. To sift and say aloud with their lips, His word.
With Passion Grace and Fire say, "We shall follow His ways".
To you a good day.

Friday, 4 September 2015

To see

Body the colour of sunshine
hair raven black
silken, brushed with her hand, back
On the spring time sands, reclined
As the waves lap
And as the morning slides into noonday
and as the father and children play
at the shore
she turns over, rejoins them,
and they swim some more
The water makes them hungry
And they walk up the grass
There is a store, a meal and drink
Served in a glass
To the garden in the heat of afternoon
The sun sets on them joking
It sets perhaps too soon
Home, homeward bound
On the trains, a soft clacking sound
Silver moonlight after a golden day
In the night time again they play