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Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Grandma read her Bible every day. She cherished those words of Psalm Twenty-three. With delight, I find that she provided a way for us to physically cling to those words in the days and weeks and months and years to come.
Grandma loved flowers, she loved her church, she loved her dogs, she loved her family and she loved to sew. For each of her children and their children, and their children, and other family and friends she made dolls, potholders, and… quilts. Each one pieced together by her hand. She worked on her last quilt at age 96.
Into each of those quilts we find the words of that psalm symbolically emblazoned. Those words were part of all she did, as God so lovingly knit them into her heart over the years; with every fresh sunrise and stunning sunset, with each beaming smile and falling tear, every sparkling joy and shadowing sorrow, each blossoming flower and obstinate ****, every delightful birth and parting death, and each victory and defeat.

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want”
So she takes some cloth - scraps from favorite dresses of sunshine yellow, powder blue and rose pink, and with experienced hands stitches patches of provision and contentment into the heart of that quilt that is ours.    

“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures...”
In go some bits of green with a little floral print and we have something to wrap up in for moments of rest in the midst of our tumultuous lives.

“He leadeth me beside still waters...”
She picks up some clear bright blue strips and with them provides some satisfaction amidst all of our frustrations.

“He restoreth my soul...”
She understands that so, she makes sure the quilt is just the right size and lets us know that we are worth the effort and time and love that God focused on her throughout the years.  

She stitches and sews the words...
“He leadeth me in the path of righteousness for His name sake...”
As she joins each piece to another and then to another until they make a square, and one square to another until she has a block, and one block to another until the quilt needs a border; and with that border, she frames for us a picture of what happens when there is a plan. She wants us to know that God has a plan for each of us, that there is a right way.

With the words...
“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me...”
She adds piece upon piece until that quilt is part of who she is, and then she gives it to us, each one, and we have a part of her that tells us who we are. That she is with us, as God is with her. No matter where we go or how far we range, how high we soar or how low we fall, her quilt reminds us that she is part of who we are. She wants us to know that she found her security in her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Grandma wants each of us to be that secure.

“Your rod and your staff, they comfort me...”
It is amazing how soft and full and pleasant Grandma’s quilts are to the touch. They are quilts of substance.  All those many different pieces of cloth of diverse sources and materials come together to make a quilt that brings us comfort while laying across our lap, or when we curl up in it when a chill is in the air.  Her quilt comforts us because it gives us a boundary that is safe. We are wrapped up safe and warm in here, and the cold world is out there. In the same way Grandma found that God gives that same sense of comfort - boundaries that we are safe within. Comfort comes for each of us when we wrap ourselves up within the boundaries that God has prepared for us.

“You prepareth a table before me in the presence of my enemies,
you anoint my head with oil, my cup runneth over,
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life...”
Grandma learned long before she began her hundredth year that, as bad as things often got and as bleak as the future often seemed; in proper perspective, God had abundantly and mercifully blessed her. In all those years that she lived alone and independently, she found that God was ever present with her. He was her constant companion. Her quilt provides us now with that sense of her abiding love and presence in our lives, and points to God’s constant presence in hers.  When we wrap ourselves up in our quilts made by Grandma’s own two hands, we can put things into perspective; realizing anew that we, indeed, have been blessed. If nothing else, we can know that we have been touched in such a special way as to have someone who loves us make us each our own personal quilt.

“And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
Alleluia! To know that Grandma today is safe and secure in the arms of God is a comfort that we cherish. That body, worn down by a century of living here on earth, God will make fit for eternity.
How does that relate to her quilts? It’s all about belonging. She has an eternal home. She belongs there, now. Having been given a quilt by someone who made it especially for you, you can know a little about the sense of belonging that she is experiencing with the saints today. It says that you are part of the person who made it and that they are part of you. You belong.
     There are many, many people in this world who do not know and will never know what it means to belong. Your mama, grandmother, great grandmother has given you that gift; the gift of belonging. She also wants you to know that only God, through Jesus Christ, can give you that gift for eternity.
     More than anything else today Grandma’s prayer for you is that you will find the quilt of God’s love that is found in Jesus Christ. Her hope for you, in the days, weeks, months and years to come, is that you will find contentment, rest, satisfaction, renewal, security, perspective, comfort - and belonging; as you curl up with the quilt she made, just for you.

©2001 Michael S. Davis, An Eulogy by her Grandson
In Memory of Grandma,
Mrs. Beulah Bachman Bradley
December 29, 1901 - August 2, 2001
I think this fits in as poetic in broadly defined way. It is an eulogy using a poem (Psalm) of David as a framework that I did for my grandmother. Tell me what you think.
4.9k · Feb 2013
Grandma’s Biscuits
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
I used to stand in awe and watch Grandma making biscuits.
She’d take her wooden bowl, then dip the floor and sift it.
As snowy flour would drift to form a mound of just so much;
She’d form a crater lake of buttermilk and shortening with her loving touch.

She would smile and watch our faces as she squeezed the flour to goop
And transform the mess she made into dough that she would scoop.
A pinch she’d take and make a ball to flatten in her palm.
Then with her thumb she’d press it down, so gently and so calm.

With care she next would take the dough and place it on a pan;
A thumb print etched in dough as she continued with her plan,
To place the pats side by side until the pan was filled
By perfect rows all laid out with hands so quick and skilled.

That cozy pan she placed into an oven warmed just right
And closed the door to seal them in and cook them out of sight.
In timely care she’d pull them free, delicious golden browns
Setting fresh hot biscuits on the table, to banish morning frowns.

Now I stand in awe and think of all the biscuits she has made,
Of all the time her thumb has pressed, as her heart has prayed.
Life finds us now, her children, in life’s wooden bowls
And we feel her loving touch as she leaves her thumbprint on our souls.

For Grandma Mary Grace Kindley Davis
On the occasion of her 105th birthday, February 9, 2007
Presented to her at her Birthday Party the next day.
©2007 Michael S. Davis
My Grandmother had 13 children, 50 grandchildren, and more than 80 great grands at the time of her passing at 105, just a few months after her birthday. As a farming family, she made pans of biscuits for her family two and three times a day and continued to so so into her 90's. She made a LOT of biscuits. She also lived up to her middle name, Grace. Even after reaching 100 years of age, those of us visiting over night would find ourselves struggling in our middle age to get down on our knees in the sitting room before bedtime for our night time prayers.  I started writing this poem when she turned 100. It took me a while to reach a point where I felt i had something to give her. i think she liked it. Her response if she heard something negative about someone or heard something she really liked was the same words. A quiet "Oh my." The negative was a short prayerful one. The positive was a one where the "my" was drawn out to show her delight. I did get the drawn out one.

She was a remarkable woman. She attended church up until just a couple of weeks before her passing. Had played the piano and sang just a few months before. I can imagine being a member of the church she attended and getting up on Sunday morning, not wanting to go to church and then saying to yourself..."I bet Mrs. grace will be there - guess I just don't have an excuse."
We miss her dearly and still feel the imprint of her remarkable life upon our souls.

We miss her dearly and still feel the imprint of her remarkable life upon our souls.
4.1k · Apr 2013
Secret Admirer
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
My soul enraptured, my spirit soars;
My  heart is captured, my love is yours.
I want to shout it. I want to scream.
I cannot speak it. I can only dream.
Yes, I must love you, amorously.
Yet, I am yours, anonymously.

©1998 Michael S. Davis
3.8k · Feb 2013
The Prom
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
(A Daddy's Reflection)

You're my pretty girl,
all smiles with dimples and your hair a curl.
Then I turn around and,
just like that,
some fella's standing on the front door mat.
My little girl looks all grown up
and a little too **** in that hair and makeup.
She fills me with pride
and not just her looks,
she's sweet and kind and a wiz with the books.
But most of all,
I hold her in esteem because she has a good heart
and Christ is her King.
So, I smile, giver her a hug,
look him in his eye;
then say a quiet prayer and kiss her goodbye.

©1997 Michael S. Davis
3.6k · Apr 2013
Touching
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
I take your hand in mine and it belongs there.
I nuzzle at your neck and feel your silken hair
And I know we belong together.
When I feel you touch me like a feather
Or I trace your smile with my finger tips,
Or we touch with just our lips;
When the very skin and hair and fragrance
Of our bodies declare it, there’s no denial;
We belong . . .
     Together . . .
           Forever . . .
                Touching.

©2013 Michael S Davis
Michael S Davis Jun 2014
Challenges punctuate our lives with question marks.

We ask ourselves, “How long?” So we dream.
We wonder about each other. So we believe.
We concern ourselves with each other’s welfare. So we pray.

We doubt our wisdom. So we trust our hearts.
We second guess ourselves. So we act in faith.
We question our tomorrow. So we cherish the present.

We fear the question marks that have punctuated our lives.
So we build walls;
Walls to hide from our fear, walls to hide from our frustration,
And walls to hide from our feelings.
Let us never build walls that would cut us off from the world,
Or from each other.

Within the circle of our fellow strugglers,
Our thoughts are punctuated with fewer question marks,
And from time to time - a simple period.
Here with each other, it's not as difficult to wait for the answer.
And the walls don't seem as challenging to climb.

Whatever our question,
We can dare each other to dream.
And in this time of testing, we can hope for the answer,
An answer that will be different for every one of us.
An answer that punctuates each of our lives
With an exclamation point!

©2014 Michael S. Davis
I took the original A Punctuated Life and rewrote it after a friend, Susan, found that the first two verses resonated with her and shared those verses with our Vocational Rehabilitation group. This is for all those who struggle with disabilities and are seeking a way to be productive in the work force.
3.0k · Apr 2013
The Way of the Spirit
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
The way of the Spirit is...

Love, the Spirit's essence;
Joy, the Spirit's song;
Peace, the Spirit's rest;
Longsuffering, the Spirit's patience;
Gentleness, the Spirit's touch;
Goodness, the Spirit's manner;
Faith, the Spirit's attitude;
Meekness, the Spirit's strength;
Temperance, the Spirit's control.

©1981 Michael S. Davis
A Commentary on Galatians 5:22-23
2.9k · Apr 2013
Christmas Without You
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Though the house will feel empty,
My life will be so full of you,
That, as my arms enfold nothing,
My heart will embrace you anew.
And when I feel lonely,
Your  presence is one with  my soul,
So, that even without you,
Your love makes me whole.

Christmas without you
Would be more than I could bear
Except for knowing your heart,
And the love that we share.
Christmas without you
Sitting right here next to me
Is a Christmas without
Any presents under the tree.

©1997 Michael S davis
2.7k · Apr 2013
Honor
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
The twenty-one gun salute
that pierced your soul at the funeral
of your grandfather,
Col. Robert Corbin Lowry,
was a fitting tribute
to a man who loved you dearly;
a soldier who fought bravely,
led his men with compassion,
humbly carried the scars of service,
and endured each Fourth of July
as too-noisy a reminder of the shots
that pierced his soul in Vietnam.
As you live your life,
honor him
by continuing to be
the granddaughter
in whom he was so proud.
You have always done that well.

©2002 Michael S Davis
2.4k · Mar 2013
A Lifetime, Too Short
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
A Lifetime, Too Short

The seconds tick by, as seconds always do;
A second can’t pass, without a thought of you.

The minutes slip by, as time marches on;
A minute won't escape lacking dreams of you sown.

The hours stride by, as the earth spins around;
An hour's not enough to enjoy the love that I’ve found.

The days burn by, as we circle the sun;
Each day's too short, since my heart you have won.

The months crawl by, facing each full moon;
Each month of your beauty ends way, too soon.

The years sweep by, as myriad stars above;
But they’ll not be enough, to get a taste of your love.

©2013 Michael S. Davis
1.9k · Apr 2013
Treasure
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Of immeasurable value,
And worthy of sacrifice;
Rarest of pearls, my treasure is you.
What I could give, would never suffice.
So, I can only treasure my treasure
And give yo my everything,
And hope I’m the measure
Of the love that you bring.

©1998 Michael S Davis
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
I am blessed to call you friend.
Though, I wonder how our friendship would be measured
if divided by the miles and dispersed among the seasons
that have passed between us.

Instead, the blessing has been multiplied
with each step along the journey
and we’ve found no lasting separation
for those who pause and taste of God’s good grace.

So, I thank you for a friendship - that,
with one hand, held a light
that illuminated God’s righteousness,
while the other reached out in mercy, love and prayer.

©Michael S. Davis 2000
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Playing Mahjong with Our Hearts

North, South, East, and West,
One after one, we find a match.
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter,
Each tile fits that we uncover.
One, two, three four.
With our hearts we add the score.
As we match bouquets of flowers,
Love sweeps us upward in its powers.
Five, six, seven, eight,
It’s amazing how each pair mates.
Then all that left’s that set of nine,
We find we’ve won in record time.

©2001 Michael S. Davis
1.4k · Feb 2013
The Constraints of Our Love
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
I don’t want to be locked into our relationship,
and neither do you.

I don’t want to ever feel trapped by our relationship,
and neither do you.

I don’t want to be smothered by our relationship,
and neither do you.

In our relationship I feel unrestrained,
and I pray you are.

In our relationship I know release.
and I sense you do.

In our relationship I breath free.
and I believe you do.

I am my own person, but I choose to depend on you.

You are your own person, but you choose to depend on me.

Let us never again fall into the prison of codependency.

Let us celebrate the freedom of our interdependency.

Let the only chains that bind us be the constraints of our love.

©1998 Michael S. Davis
1.3k · Apr 2013
The Fragrance of Our Love
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
The finest perfumes are never of a single essence
but a combination of essential oils
that capture the presence
of Love.

Love,
ever present between us,
combines in our essential emissions
and emanates as the perfume of our oneness;
The fragrance of  our love.

©2013 Michael S Davis
1.3k · Apr 2013
Step by Step
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Verse 1
Through this maze of life I wander,
Wondering which path I should take.
Questioning, I look for answers,
So many choices I must make.

Verse 2
Through the paths of life I stumble,
Often falling into snares.
Is there freedom from this *******,
Or am I doomed to bleak despair?

Verse 3*
Through this maze I seek an answer.
What is the price and who will pay.
Only Jesus, Lord and master,
Will guide my steps and lead the way.

Chorus
Step by step, I'll follow Jesus.
Step by step, I will not roam.
Step by step, I know he'll guide me.
He paid the price, He'll lead me home.

©1983 Michael S. Davis
Another song.
1.3k · Feb 2013
The Poetry of Our Love
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
As in the sweetest verse,
Where every word is chosen and the meter is rehearsed,
And a  perfect balance found, that expresses things profound;
So, love has chosen us and our hearts now beat in rhyme
As a match formed up in heaven, now and for all time.
We find that every nuance of the time we spend together
Shows that we belong, like two birds of the same feather,
Like the right goes with the left or the mate for that old sock,
Like a nut goes with a bolt or the way tick goes with tock
Like two peas fit in a pod, or a hand fits in a glove.
The beauty of that balance, that’s the poetry of our love.

©1998 Michael S. Davis
1.2k · Mar 2013
Beautiful Things
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
God made us appreciative of beautiful things.
For most of us, all those things look the same;
golden sunsets, ruby roses, emerald rings,
enthrall our eyes and bestow beauty it’s name.

But we each give beauty our own special spin,
a color, a shape, a smell that quickens our heart,
something that tells us it’s music, not just a din;
and makes beauty our own, a whole not a part.

The saying declares “Beauty is as Beauty does.”
It is what is done that sings beauty to me;
does it tickle my fancy and speed up my pulse,
and does it go to the essence of who I should be?

So, I look at you and my heart skips a beat,
and tries to keep pace with what I see there,
overwhelmed by a vision as alluring as sweet;
I’m awed to be touched by a beauty so rare.

The beauty that we each in this world hope to find,
the scarcest of wonders, the gem for which we long;
that calms restless hearts, and settles our mind,
Beauty that proclaims, “This is where you belong!”

“You’re beautiful!” I say with marveling eyes,
as I ponder world of beauty I've known,
that declaration of love and awe implies;
Your beauty beckons me and now I'm home.

©2007 Michael S. Davis
1.2k · Feb 2013
Receiving
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
I will not take from you.
I will receive what you freely give,
Your time, with attentiveness;
Your opinion, with deliberation;
Your wisdom, with appreciation;
Your care, with contentment;
Your trust, with meekness;
Your happiness, with joy;
Your sorrow, with comfort;
Your compassion, with relief;
Your humanness, with understanding;
Your adoration, with commitment;
Your passion, with fidelity;
Your heart, with sacrifice;
Your soul, with reverence;
Your love, with devotion.

©1998 Michael S. Davis
1.2k · Mar 2013
Separation
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
Oh how we dread
being pulled apart
by our circumstances;
and thrill
as the bonds of our love
draw us back,
closer than before.

©2013  Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Be Anxious for nothing...

I've got to worry about this. This is serious. I must do something!

But in everything by prayer and supplication...

Prayer!?! I am praying!
Supplication?
You mean with a humble and willing heart?

With thanksgiving, let your requests be made know unto God...

Thanksgiving?!? Even as I ask? Why?

And the peace of God which surpasses all understanding,
Will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Peace?

For He Himself is our peace...*

Peace.

©1987 Michael S. Davis
Philippians 4:6-7
Ephesians 2:14
1.1k · Feb 2013
Fumbling Adoration
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Enfolded by your love and care,
I can only sigh .
Oh, to express what my heart screams,
but my voice cannot utter.
Words are useless to declare the love
that your love unleashes within me.
With my life and breath
I care.
I can do no less.
I pray it is enough
to feebly, fumble with the words
and just adore you.

©2000 Michael S. Davis
1.1k · Apr 2013
Second Marriage Blessing
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Getting married. Again?
The burden of shame
many would insist you bear,
is not theirs to place upon you.

So, I give this blessing
as you begin this new chapter in your life.

May you find in this union…

The belonging that God has always wanted
you to experience in marriage;

The joy that only comes when two hearts beat as one;

The completeness that can only be experienced
when the one you love, loves you back;

The pleasure that flows from being safe with someone;

The comfort you can experience when you kiss each others' scars.

And may the love you celebrate
enrich the love of all you two-as-one may touch.

©2009 Michael S Davis
Modified from a note written to one of my oldest friends.
1.0k · Mar 2013
Feeling Your Presence
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
Like a infant I feel your nurturing touch and understanding patience.
As a child I rest in the comfort of your warm and soothing embrace.
You awaken the adventurous heart of the boy I once was, as I see the world new in you.
I stir with pubescent passion at the sight of your sensual loveliness.
You lift me to the challenge of life once again with the vigor of my primal manhood.
In the maturity of love I carefully weigh the balance of the choices that unite us.

You carry me to understanding that my age does not comprehend;
And I feel you as the child I have been,
The youth I wish I’d been,
The tiger I thought I was,
The man I have become,
And the old husband who will wisely grow old

feeling your presence.

©1998 Michael S. Davis
1.0k · Apr 2013
My Heart in Your Hand
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Flush and Pink and brand-spanking new,
As you wiggle and squint and try to coo;
While i tickle and stroke and ooo and ahh,
And say something silly like, "I'm your Papa!"

Mommy is resting with joy in  her sighs,
and daddy is watching with pride in his eyes.
Your family is gathered both near and far
and they're praying for you wherever they are.

On my big finger, your tiny ones land
and with that little clasp, my heart's in your hand.
Hold it with care in all that you do,
know that I'm here and papa loves you!

©2000 Michael S. Davis
880 · Apr 2013
Presence, Divine
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
What difference do we make,
when a friend we meet to comfort
and to their needs relate.

We sit there often mute
with nothing worth to say,
that provides them anything  astute

Perhaps that’s just the point
they know your limitations;
that their woeful head you can’t anoint.

It’s God that needs to touch them.
They need His Presence, Divine,
And in your caring touch they’ll find Him.

So don’t worry what you’ll say then
It’s your presence that they need
and what they see in you - is Him.

©2013 Michael S Davis
879 · Mar 2013
A Lake, A Quill, A Pen
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
A lake,
This day is placid, calm, at peace
But could be rippled, tossed, and chopped;
Submits to change, the winds increase,
From glass to wave white topped.

A quill,
Adrift, from wing’s one shake,
Will not soar, but float;
Reacting to emoting lake
To ride, perhaps to quote.

A pen,
From lake, to quill, to pen then ink
The quill’s flight afloat it scribes;
To find a cause, a purpose, a link
When in a poets hand ascribes.

©Michael S. Davis 2013
This is the first poem I have written the same day I have posted. If you check out my page you will see that the picture I have there is of a feather floating on water. I took the picture at Swan lake in Sumter, SC. I chose the picture because of the allusion of the feather to a quill pen. Today I took the allusion, and wrote a poem. I though of several ways to go with this one. May write another from the perspective of the quill doing the writing.
878 · Apr 2013
My Only Child
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
I though of God's great love for me and I began to understand
When i looked at that child of mine grip my finger with her hand.
My beautiful daughter, my only child, my very flesh and bone,
My precious flowering rose, I would not give her to atone;
Not for my own sin or any other, much less my enemy.

I love her and would give my life in place of hers, my freedom to keep her free.
I've watched her grow and am so proud of the person that she is;
And pray even with me failing her, she knows that she is His.
In God's Son she's put her faith and with His Son does walk,
And thank my God that every day with His only Child will talk.

©1996 Michael S. Davis
858 · Apr 2013
"Peanut"
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
There you are,
shouting in silence from the ultra sound.
"I am here."

Yes you are,
smiling in the dim warm rosy glow,
changing our lives.

A mere peanut,
nestled warmly in the center of
your mother's being

"How are you?"
We ask as the anxious spots of crimson
spark our fears.

"No, dear God!"
Our hearts scream as your heart slips
from your mothers womb.

Then the terror,
as your mother nearly gives her life
to save your own.

Senseless grief
as we excuse God for our not
getting to know you.

Eternal hope,
as we send your spirit to God
with our prayers.

Precious memories
of a life we held with our love
for but a moment.

We are changed
as we examine just how deeply
you touched our souls.

©2013 Michael S Davis
My precious step-daughter miscarried this weekend after having her first ultrasound on last Thursday. For her, when her grief will let her read it. For me, and all those who have suffered such loss and those this will inspire to pray for a new young mother in grief whose big sister is 5 months along.
845 · Feb 2013
Alone, Together
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Here I sit - without you.
There you sit - without me.
Yet, I am full of you -
You are full of me;
As our hearts never let our thoughts forget our oneness.
Even in our longing we are alone, together.
Alone - together in our yearning
For the moment when we can truly be
Together, alone.

©2001 Michael S. Davis
830 · Apr 2013
My Valentine, My Wife
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
I don't have to ask, I call you my valentine,
Be mine, not to possess ; you are.  mine -
to love and cherish, to nurture and hold,
to snuggle and kiss and be even more bold.
With you I'll  laugh and cry and struggle and play.
And daily with two hearts, as one we will pray.
The hopes and the dreams we want out of life,
are becoming reality, my valentine, my wife.

©1998 Michael S. Davis
My first Valentine poem to my wife.
828 · Feb 2013
Powerless Power
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
I hold you in my arms and you tilt your head back,
as I kiss the ivory softness of your neck.
I sense the awesome power I have in your love for me,
and in my love for you
I’m powerless to do anything but please.
You stand close behind me and touch me with your hand,
putting your cheek softly next to mine.
With your arm across my chest,
I feel the boundless power you have in my love for you.
And because of your love for me,
I know you are powerless to bring me any harm.
Then we look into each other’s eyes
as you sit upon my lap,
and we are overcome
in the powerless power of our love.

©2002 Michael S. Davis
821 · Apr 2013
Resurrection
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
When there is death, there is no hope
Without a resurrection.
In this life, things often die
And leave no satisfaction.
Because of Christ's great sacrifice
there is a new beginning.
And though it's hard, please take my hand;
Our new life now is starting.
Tomorrow's dim and filled with dreams.
Today is ours together.
So, step by step we'll walk this road
Through sun or stormy weather.
We'll make this day of resurrection
The hope for our tomorrows
And hand in hand we'll start again
As one for all that follows.

©1998 Michael S. Davis
In 1998 when my I ask my wife to marry me, it was going to be  a second marriage for each of us. I wrote this after our engagement, before our marriage, for Easter that year. Fifteen years as one for what follows.
816 · Feb 2013
The Lighthouse-
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Beaming. . .as a beacon
in a world filled with the darkness of sin,
showing the way to safety.

Illuminating. . .the darkest corners
with God’s glorious light,
letting people know their sin for what it is.

Scattering. . .the darkness
before God’s holy light,
breaking Satan’s death grip on this world.

Shining. . .ever shining,
Or the world will die in darkness,
never having known the Light.

©1996 Michael S. Davis
805 · Mar 2013
Remarkable You
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
Created by God,
Redeemed through His Son,
What He is doing in you has only begun.

Your special gifts,
Sent from above,
Make a beautiful difference, when framed by your love.

Conscientiously devoted,
To doing what's right,
You never give up without a justified fight.

Some say you're stubborn,
They just don't understand,
You hold in your heart, what's placed in your hand.

I love you dearly,
But that's nothing new,
Being loved shouldn't surprise remarkable you!

© Michael S. Davis 1998
802 · Apr 2013
Warmth
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
In the midst of this cold, cold world
with all of its care and woe,
I’m blessed with your caring warmth
and bask in your loving glow.

I’m warmed by the look in your eyes
that tell me it’s me you adore,
And warmed as your hand clasps mine
as my heart takes wing to soar.

I’m warmed when I hold you near
as we sigh all our cares away,
And warmed when your heart touches mine
as together we face the day.

©2008 Michael S. Davis
802 · Mar 2013
Between These Sheets
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
There is a quiet space
where we escape from all our care,
An envelope of peace and love
where our two hearts rejoin.
Here we talk and pray and play
as with one heart we share
While we cuddle in these treasured moments we purloin.

Here we rest as Husband and Wife
and share as one this bed,
While as parents we toss and turn;
hearts echoing the other’s beats.
Here we find a solace in our love well voiced,
with worries left unsaid;
As we cherish our precious moments between these sheets.

©2006 Michael S. Davis
776 · Mar 2013
Gloria
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
In life she sowed God's Word with grace,
She sang, she taught, she cared, with smiling face;
Expressed with gifted hands her soul's great love,
As from her heart she shared a music born above.

In death she reaps a harvest gold,
And plays and sings a song of triumph, bold.
Then we note with hearts that pine and long,
Her name was praise, her life a song!

We face the night; she rises with the day,
We sing and play and send her on her way;
Secure and safe with the knowledge of Christ's hope,
She goes to God - Gloria In Excelsis Deo!

A tribute
to
Gloria Wilson Westmoreland
September 3, 1927 - March 7, 2003
©2003 Michael S. Davis
764 · Mar 2013
What?
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
“What?”  You say as again you catch me looking .
Looking… soaking in your beauty
Longing…to be near enough to touch
Loosing…the battle not to sigh
Loving… that I’m yours forever.

“What?”  You ask, not seeing you as I do.
Seeing…the loveliness of your features.
Savoring…the sexiness of your presence.
Searching…the richness of your heart.
Sharing…the oneness of our souls.

“What?” You ask, answering my smile with yours.
Not understanding your beauty,
Not appreciating your charm.
Not comprehending your power,
Not knowing you melt my heart with just a glance.

©2011 Michael S. Davis
758 · Mar 2013
Unconditional Love
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
No ifs, ands, or buts, just when, how, and then.
Our love is strong and will not end.
With mountain high or the valley low,
In each other’s arms we’ll find love’s glow.
It will light our way down every road,
Together we’ll manage the heaviest load.
In that glow, face to face,
We’ll love each other, in God’s grace.

©2001  Michael S. Davis
754 · Apr 2013
Just Brown
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Just brown… those eyes.
Those eyes…
Those eyes… reflecting an oak’s quiet strength
Those eyes… singing with a cello’s maple voice
Those eyes… piercing with the promise of an acorn
Those eyes… hinting at the rich fertile soil of your bustling mind
Those eyes… revealing you as a treasure dipped in chocolate.
Those eyes…
Those eyes… just brown.

©2009 Michael Davis
I saw a description someone wrote online when asked what color their eyes were. The answer - Just brown. I wrote this and sent it to them. Hope they started giving a different response. It's not a "love" poem. I didn't know them and still don't. I just hope they learned something about themselves from it.
753 · Feb 2013
What the Heart Can See
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
You notice all the little things about  me.
All  the  stuff  that  others miss,  you see.
So,  with a smile  or just a look,  I know you read  me  like  a book,
and  then you care and seize the moment: Just like an angel, heaven sent.
I’ve never  cared  for anyone,  like  I care for you.
Your caring touch renews my life,  like  the  morning dew.
I want to always care  for  you, like you care for me;
and notice all the little things
the heart alone can see.

©1999 Michael S. Davis
753 · Apr 2013
The Line in the Sand
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
There are moments when God's light shines bright across the sands of time,
revealing the difference between right and wrong with an indisputable line.

A line not drawn by the hand of man, it drips from the heart of God;
as unrighteous men reject his plan and refuse his grace for a rod.
When those times come and the line is drawn and God calls for men to stand,
you'll find us there at the break of dawn; in His light at the line in the sand.

©2003 Michael S. Davis
As much as I hate the idea of war, the reality is that evil will triumph when good men do nothing. I am glad that we as a nation, with all of our faults and mistakes, have often sent men of honor, to stand at the line in the sand trying to do what is right. It is for those men who actual stand on that line to who this poem pays tribute.
735 · Feb 2013
A Kiss
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Touching the essence of your smile with mine;
While drunk with the sense of belonging,
I trace with my tongue your lips of fine wine
And my heart pounds with additional longing.
Softness and passion awake in my soul
As our lips slowly mold to each other.
You warm everything that’s ever been cold
As my heart snuggles under your cover.
Our tongues dance a dance of trust and of love,
As we taste the sweet nectar of truth.
Sweet peace flutters over us like a white dove,
And we neither have something to prove.
How can you fill me with such delights.
With just a slight touch of your skin.
I look in your eyes, whose passion invites,
Then touch your sweet lips once again.

©1999 Michael S. Davis
734 · Feb 2013
A Heart’s Prayer
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
My heart sings with the love we share together.
It beats with the tempo of our dreams;
throbs with passion I did not know existed;
aches with longing when we’re apart;
flutters with each glimpse of her beauty;
stops at the thought of life without her.

I pray that my love gives her a song,
and ask that her every dream come true.
May her passion enrich her future,
and fear and doubt last but a moment.
Let her glow in the midst of sorrow,
Please, God, keep her safe from every harm.

Then perhaps . . .
You can weave our dreams together,
and enrich our lives with each other;
as we chase away the loneliness,
and walk through this life as one.

©2012 Michael S. Davis
732 · Apr 2013
Freely
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Verse1*
God has given love
through the death of His only Son.
This gift of love
and gift of life
has for me new life begun.

Verse2
Jesus left heaven's splendor
and gave up every right;
that in my sin
and in my darkness,
I may see the light.

Verse 3
As costly as this was,
all this was given free.
This gift of grace
and gift of hope
has been given now to me.

Chorus
Freely I've received and freely I must give.
Freely He has given of these riches from above.
Freely I've received and freely I must give.
Freely I must share with you the riches of His love.

©1979 Michael S. Davis
A song. Yes there is music that goes with it.
708 · Mar 2013
A Punctuated Life
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
Being apart punctuates our lives with question marks.

We ask ourselves, “How long?”
So we dream.
We wonder about each other’s whereabouts.
So we believe.
We concern ourselves with each other’s welfare.
So we pray.

We doubt our wisdom.
So we trust our hearts.
We second guess ourselves.
So we act in faith.
We question our tomorrow.
So we cherish the present.

We fear the question marks that have punctuated our lives.
So we build walls;
Walls to hide from our fear, walls to hide from our frustration,
And walls to hide from our feelings.
Let us never build walls that would cut us off from the world,
Or from each other.

When I think of you,
My thoughts are never punctuated with a question mark,
But always with an exclamation point!
No question is too hard to wait for the answer.
No wall is too hard to climb.

Whatever the question,
You are the answer to all of my dreams.
This time of testing demands an answer,
But, you are the answer that punctuates my life
With the exclamation point of your love!

©2001 Michael S. Davis
707 · Feb 2013
Unexpected Pleasure
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
I delight in finding ways
that make your eyes light up.
It may be with flowers
or just washing out a cup,
hiding piles of candy
in a place you’d not expect,
trusting in your wisdom
giving you deserved respect,
discovering a delightful way
to ease your headache pain,
kissing your luscious tummy
whether you lose or gain,
getting you a special treat
with a candle aglow on top,
writing one more poem for you
so you’ll know they’ll never stop.
Yes, I delight in finding ways
to love you my sweet treasure,
and hope I have a long, long life
to bring unexpected pleasure.

©2005 Michael S. Davis
705 · Mar 2013
Encouraged
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
I depend so much on you.
In the midst of the things that cause me discouragement,
no matter what the adversity;
You are always my source of encouragement.
When I can’t seem to go on
your words, your smile, and your touch
renew my spirit
and remind me of why I love you so much.
When everything looks bad,
when it seems that nothing good matters any more;
I look and see the love in your eyes
and hope is alive, because its you I adore.
Stand by me, as I stand by you,
Spring will come again,
and life will blossom and bloom before us
as we walk arm in arm,
in God’s way,
and we’ll see Him bless.

©1999 Michael S. Davis
700 · Feb 2013
Empty Full
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
At the table a chair sits empty
And there’s a big empty seat on the boat.
We see a pew that’s empty each Sunday,
An empty hook where he kept his coat.

At the store his chair stands empty.
An empty handshake offers no greeting.
Empty hugs from a loving grandpa,
Just a recliner where he sat reading.

An empty bed looms at evening,
His silence amplifying the stillness.
There’s a void in the places we knew him,
An emptiness – full of his presence.

A presence of love for his family,
A love that cherished his friends.
In that presence we still hear his wisdom,
And feel the kind touch of his hands.

As in life his presence still beckons
And calls us to live full and free;
Redeemed by the love of the Savior,
The people God called us to be.

In Loving Memory of Byrnes L. Poston
©1974 Michael S. Davis
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