LoreandLegend - Hello Poetry

You were born of passion and intimacy Your little soul was given shape when love was fresh and new We didn't know it then, ignorant bliss we were in But you were taking shape: creeping in like morning dew The day we found your presence was one of joy and wonder We had no idea how hard the journey, we would take it step-by-step We looked forward to your coming, but we feared our imperfections We did our best to plan ahead...but for new life, can one truly prep? The weeks flew by, you grew and grew! You were developing at an incredible pace! Each tiny part was taking shape First a heartbeat, then a face Nine short-long months you lived in me Our bodies knit together as one Rumble, tumble, hiccup, kick Never knowing if you were daughter or son Then came the days of labor and travail Labor of love, but painfully long First in the home, then to hospital rushed All for the moment you cried your first song Music to my ears was your first little wail "It's a girl!" was exclaimed as you were laid in my arms My Melina, my sweetie girl, my precious one From that first moment you had me charmed They took you from me to clean you and warm you Then brought you back to cuddle with me Oh the agony when they found fault in your breath And took you the second time from me Empty arms in an empty room It was a long, lonely night: that first night of all I cried as I thought of how far apart... Sepparated from you by dozens of halls We spent several days waiting for you Your recovery was quick, but felt so slow The day we finally took you home Made our hearts leap, skip, and glow Now that you're here, there are no silent nights My arms are filled with your ravenous self But I would not change that, no not for the world Though tired and insufficient myself For this journey we've begun is teaching me much I am selfish, impatient, and often unkind But God gives more grace on this road of life And your smile so sweet as you relax and unwind I love you, Melina.

0

Sep 18, 2021

Sep 18, 2021 at 1:30 AM UTC

To Melina

You were born of passion and intimacy Your little soul was given shape when love was fresh and new We didn't know it then, ignorant bliss we were in But you were taking shape: creeping in like morning dew The day we found your presence was one of joy and wonder We had no idea how hard the journey, we would take it step-by-step We looked forward to your coming, but we feared our imperfections We did our best to plan ahead...but for new life, can one truly prep? The weeks flew by, you grew and grew! You were developing at an incredible pace! Each tiny part was taking shape First a heartbeat, then a face Nine short-long months you lived in me Our bodies knit together as one Rumble, tumble, hiccup, kick Never knowing if you were daughter or son Then came the days of labor and travail Labor of love, but painfully long First in the home, then to hospital rushed All for the moment you cried your first song Music to my ears was your first little wail "It's a girl!" was exclaimed as you were laid in my arms My Melina, my sweetie girl, my precious one From that first moment you had me charmed They took you from me to clean you and warm you Then brought you back to cuddle with me Oh the agony when they found fault in your breath And took you the second time from me Empty arms in an empty room It was a long, lonely night: that first night of all I cried as I thought of how far apart... Sepparated from you by dozens of halls We spent several days waiting for you Your recovery was quick, but felt so slow The day we finally took you home Made our hearts leap, skip, and glow Now that you're here, there are no silent nights My arms are filled with your ravenous self But I would not change that, no not for the world Though tired and insufficient myself For this journey we've begun is teaching me much I am selfish, impatient, and often unkind But God gives more grace on this road of life And your smile so sweet as you relax and unwind I love you, Melina.

45

Imagine a world where no music rang A silent place where no one sang The rhythms of life all irregularly paced Every word disjointed and out of place Imagine a world where no music rang No melodies on which our words could hang No magic of harmonies weaving their colors gay No soulful instruments for us to play A world of lies A world of sorrows A world of ending our weary tomorrows But now... Imagine a world ringing with truth A world full of hope and youth A world where song readily swelled And melody came as from an endless well Imagine a world shaped by the the greatest song A world full of choirs instead of angry throngs A world where no strife of hate could endure And every gesture was gentle and sure A world full of grace A world full of joy A world where each life is meaningfully employed Imagine the difference Imagine the change Imagine the day where we make the exchange...

0

Mar 24, 2021

Mar 24, 2021 at 2:35 PM UTC

The Exchange

Imagine a world where no music rang A silent place where no one sang The rhythms of life all irregularly paced Every word disjointed and out of place Imagine a world where no music rang No melodies on which our words could hang No magic of harmonies weaving their colors gay No soulful instruments for us to play A world of lies A world of sorrows A world of ending our weary tomorrows But now... Imagine a world ringing with truth A world full of hope and youth A world where song readily swelled And melody came as from an endless well Imagine a world shaped by the the greatest song A world full of choirs instead of angry throngs A world where no strife of hate could endure And every gesture was gentle and sure A world full of grace A world full of joy A world where each life is meaningfully employed Imagine the difference Imagine the change Imagine the day where we make the exchange...

26

Sometimes I feel afraid. It's a childish thing at my age: To fear darkness, emptiness, or blade Or to cry over life's turning of a page. Yet, here I am: tears wet my cheeks. Here I am: I cannot sleep. I mourn over lost days, months, and weeks And with foolish faith I hide in blankets deep. But growing up leaves blankets a poor comfort in the dark. No "Teddy Dear" could ever hold all the sorrows in my heart. No nightlight as a beacon; no candle, fire, or spark No Mummy and Daddy to come and rend my fears apart. I am alone tonight, and this knowledge cuts me deep. I must face my fears at last and trust the Lord my soul to keep. For if the lights do not go out, and darkness is never ours We would never know the wonder of a sky full of stars.

0

Sep 23, 2020

Sep 23, 2020 at 7:36 AM UTC

Afraid of the Dark

Sometimes I feel afraid. It's a childish thing at my age: To fear darkness, emptiness, or blade Or to cry over life's turning of a page. Yet, here I am: tears wet my cheeks. Here I am: I cannot sleep. I mourn over lost days, months, and weeks And with foolish faith I hide in blankets deep. But growing up leaves blankets a poor comfort in the dark. No "Teddy Dear" could ever hold all the sorrows in my heart. No nightlight as a beacon; no candle, fire, or spark No Mummy and Daddy to come and rend my fears apart. I am alone tonight, and this knowledge cuts me deep. I must face my fears at last and trust the Lord my soul to keep. For if the lights do not go out, and darkness is never ours We would never know the wonder of a sky full of stars.

16

When the entirety of my dreams collapse When castles I've built up in sand become ruins in a heap And weigh more than a mountain as they melt into the beach And the waves come to pummel any of the remains As the turning of the tide swallows up my fame And the Son beating down turns all my selfish works to shame What shall a soul, broken, battered and lost, do in the midst of such destruction? Or who can heal a broken spirit that lies parched and vulnerable in the rays of noonday? A perverted soul like mine withers in the face of such Glory divine Glory of a hidden paradise, an island all mine own Filled with wonderous sights to feed the eyes, and luscious fruits to feed the soul And yet I sit upon the beaches, looking down at the dust Trying to build something of worth out of the most worthless thing I've found Not able to get up, to explore, or be at peace And the one thing that keeps me here is my own prideful, ambitious sceme I worked through the night, in the shelter of darkness The bitter cold of night preffered to the cool of the Day And now I see that it was all vanity The tides of Love stay at bay for none, and are as fierce as they are lovely And they wreck the best intentions built on the wrong foundation At the end of myself, and the works of my hands, I see how foolish I have been For none with sense would ever build a home upon the shore And only the most perfect Love could breathe life into sculpted sand Too weak to resist, I succumb to the roaring waves I feel the tide pull the ground out from under me This final surrender pulls me out into the deep unknown A baptism of death to self, and a life so truely real That when I rise back to the surface, I shall finally, really heal

0

Mar 5, 2020

Mar 5, 2020 at 10:16 AM UTC

Sandcastles

When the entirety of my dreams collapse When castles I've built up in sand become ruins in a heap And weigh more than a mountain as they melt into the beach And the waves come to pummel any of the remains As the turning of the tide swallows up my fame And the Son beating down turns all my selfish works to shame What shall a soul, broken, battered and lost, do in the midst of such destruction? Or who can heal a broken spirit that lies parched and vulnerable in the rays of noonday? A perverted soul like mine withers in the face of such Glory divine Glory of a hidden paradise, an island all mine own Filled with wonderous sights to feed the eyes, and luscious fruits to feed the soul And yet I sit upon the beaches, looking down at the dust Trying to build something of worth out of the most worthless thing I've found Not able to get up, to explore, or be at peace And the one thing that keeps me here is my own prideful, ambitious sceme I worked through the night, in the shelter of darkness The bitter cold of night preffered to the cool of the Day And now I see that it was all vanity The tides of Love stay at bay for none, and are as fierce as they are lovely And they wreck the best intentions built on the wrong foundation At the end of myself, and the works of my hands, I see how foolish I have been For none with sense would ever build a home upon the shore And only the most perfect Love could breathe life into sculpted sand Too weak to resist, I succumb to the roaring waves I feel the tide pull the ground out from under me This final surrender pulls me out into the deep unknown A baptism of death to self, and a life so truely real That when I rise back to the surface, I shall finally, really heal

28

Early Wednesday morning I rise and take a breath I feel my life course through me, but tis a life of death The sky shrouds itself in solemn mist, as if nature knows the story How death was chosen over life, and ashes over glory I sew a fragile garment to hide my shame from ages past My crude clothing of smile-coated lies...instead of the outward garb of grass Prepared for my funeral, with black, on black, on black The golden cross hung 'round my neck shows whom I'm seeking, and says, "There's no going back" I step out into a world that crumbles beneath my feet To find sanctuary for my restless soul: a place with Christ to meet A place where prayers have a scent, and holiness a sound A place where I can touch my Rock, and feel my Solid Ground I kneel down to confess my faults, all my own in a multitude Alone I whisper my many faults, yet I know I'm not in solitude For all fall short, all shall die, and all shall feel great pain and loss Today, however, we remember that the ground is even at the cross As one body we approach the altar, and kneel humbly at the rail We feel the ashes fall down our face, so dead, so dark, so stale I breathe the dust from which I'm made, remember my dying frame Yet this cross of ash, this sign of death, whispers that I shall be born again

0

Mar 2, 2020

Mar 2, 2020 at 11:25 AM UTC

Remember You Are Dust

Early Wednesday morning I rise and take a breath I feel my life course through me, but tis a life of death The sky shrouds itself in solemn mist, as if nature knows the story How death was chosen over life, and ashes over glory I sew a fragile garment to hide my shame from ages past My crude clothing of smile-coated lies...instead of the outward garb of grass Prepared for my funeral, with black, on black, on black The golden cross hung 'round my neck shows whom I'm seeking, and says, "There's no going back" I step out into a world that crumbles beneath my feet To find sanctuary for my restless soul: a place with Christ to meet A place where prayers have a scent, and holiness a sound A place where I can touch my Rock, and feel my Solid Ground I kneel down to confess my faults, all my own in a multitude Alone I whisper my many faults, yet I know I'm not in solitude For all fall short, all shall die, and all shall feel great pain and loss Today, however, we remember that the ground is even at the cross As one body we approach the altar, and kneel humbly at the rail We feel the ashes fall down our face, so dead, so dark, so stale I breathe the dust from which I'm made, remember my dying frame Yet this cross of ash, this sign of death, whispers that I shall be born again

20

Your scarf on my neck I close my eyes and inhail Suddenly you're near

0

Oct 28, 2019

Oct 28, 2019 at 7:39 PM UTC

Scent of You

Your scarf on my neck I close my eyes and inhail Suddenly you're near

3

They say the most beautiful gems are the hardest to grow: They are rare, precious, and unique Their journeys are long, hard, painful and slow But their beauty is of greatest value They begin as any other rock, average and ugly: Rough, pointed, and unrefined Then circumstances pressure them, hold them snugly 'til in the heated heart of earth they are purified Once formed, they must surface, they must be found: Rooted, probed, and undermined Rugged rocks from the cold underground Are saved from the dark to be seen in the light The sparkle is there, but still under the surface: Remote, perdu, and unknown Cut and ground to reach their true purpose The glittering gems are at last revealed When I look at this process, I see my own story Fallen, broken, and remade First dying inside, then raised up to glory... You see my little gem beginning to show

0

Oct 21, 2019

Oct 21, 2019 at 3:08 PM UTC

Gemstones

They say the most beautiful gems are the hardest to grow: They are rare, precious, and unique Their journeys are long, hard, painful and slow But their beauty is of greatest value They begin as any other rock, average and ugly: Rough, pointed, and unrefined Then circumstances pressure them, hold them snugly 'til in the heated heart of earth they are purified Once formed, they must surface, they must be found: Rooted, probed, and undermined Rugged rocks from the cold underground Are saved from the dark to be seen in the light The sparkle is there, but still under the surface: Remote, perdu, and unknown Cut and ground to reach their true purpose The glittering gems are at last revealed When I look at this process, I see my own story Fallen, broken, and remade First dying inside, then raised up to glory... You see my little gem beginning to show

20

Isn't it interesting... How the trees reach up And the stars fall down ...as if heaven and earth were meant to intersect?

0

Oct 11, 2019

Oct 11, 2019 at 8:23 AM UTC

Interesting

Isn't it interesting... How the trees reach up And the stars fall down ...as if heaven and earth were meant to intersect?

4

I tried to approach, but you walked away I wanted to love you, but you wouldn't stay You wanted your heart out-of-reach and alone So the warmth of touch wouldn't melt your cold stone You stand there so near, yet so very far You don't want the appearance of your "inner strength" marred You laugh with your voice, but your eyes are still dead The idea of feeling anything fills you with dread Because you don't want the pain, you can't feel my hurt You don't like to laugh because smiles disconcert You'd rather be logical, right, and made out of stone Than know how to love and how to be known

0

Jun 16, 2019

Jun 16, 2019 at 12:06 AM UTC

Irrelevant

I tried to approach, but you walked away I wanted to love you, but you wouldn't stay You wanted your heart out-of-reach and alone So the warmth of touch wouldn't melt your cold stone You stand there so near, yet so very far You don't want the appearance of your "inner strength" marred You laugh with your voice, but your eyes are still dead The idea of feeling anything fills you with dread Because you don't want the pain, you can't feel my hurt You don't like to laugh because smiles disconcert You'd rather be logical, right, and made out of stone Than know how to love and how to be known

12

When the shadows deepen, the light is that much brighter. When joy is scarce, how much more beautiful the laughter?

0

May 13, 2019

May 13, 2019 at 8:54 PM UTC

Brighter

When the shadows deepen, the light is that much brighter. When joy is scarce, how much more beautiful the laughter?

2