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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
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
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.
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
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
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Though only in the shadows
Hidden by shades of gray,
I’ll be there beside you-
With each precarious step I’ll stay.

If you need me in the darkness
Or exposed in light of day.
I’ll stand right there with you-
I’m with you all the way.

When all of this is over
Or if it never ends.
One thing you can count on,
If it’s on my heart, your heart depends;

No matter where this road leads
Or what burdens we must bear
We’ll share the load together
Because, always, I’ll be there!

©2001 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
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
I think of a special lady, who has gone to her reward,
Who led a life of faithful love and service to her Lord.
She loved you and cared and clothed you and fed,
And spanked and tucked you into bed;
Then helped you be faithful with your own,
Until now your children’s children are grown.
When one thinks about such things, only a superlative will do
She’s a Mother’s Mother and she taught you well, for you are now one, too.

©2003 Michael S Davis
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
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.
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
Oh, the beauty of the moonlight,
As it glistens in the night;
Reflected by the waves,
As they catch a bit of light;
As they toss the moonbeams to me
Across the wide expanse,
The light that’s wafting from above
Is all the more enhanced.

Oh, Lord, as these waves
Are guided by Your hand,
And as they toss the moonbeams
Until they light the land;
Let me catch the light of Heaven
And send it on its way,
That I may glorify Your name
Through all I do and say.

©1974 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Waiting for the nurturing warmth upon its face,
Hoping for a reason to unfurl her velvet lace;
Wrapped snugly in its bud are treasures soft and sweet,
And only in release can her beauty be complete.

The passion of a rose is wrapped up nice and tight,
And its potential waits there, beyond the strongest might.
It opens to the season's mysterious caress,
And lifts its face to heaven for God to touch and bless.

He touches those soft petals with the blush of love
And releases from its heart a fragrance born above.
Just below the petals is a sacrificial thorn,
And in those lush green leaves, hope for life reborn.

Its passion is released, and seems so quickly gone,
But the love for which it sacrificed goes on and on and on.
With its fragrance all used up, its velvet tarnished, too,
Then its crystal vase is empty - its passion is in you.

©2001 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
As the days unfold
and reveal the things I know not yet about you,
I find I love you more and more, as you make each day feel new.

As the days unfold
I’m still amazed at how beautifully our love grows,
and can only compare our journey to the blossoming of a rose.

©1998 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
When I sit at Jesus feet,
I’m at home.

When I read His Word and pray,
I’m at home.

With my family ‘round me gathered,
As we crown Him Lord and Savior;
When He’s King of Kings at my house,
I’m at home.

©1992 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Love
An emotion, yes - but more –
A commitment, made with the heart.
A heart shaped by love, tested in faith, yet scarred by sin.

So, it’s a love given, not worthy of love.
A love note scrawled on a scrap of paper with a crayon the wrong shade of red.
A note that says simply

Here is my heart – such as it is. It’s all I have and I am
ashamed to offer it to you. It’s tattered and marked
with crayon outside the lines in the wrong shade of
red, from the stain of my wounds and the wounds that
I’ve caused others, especially you.

But it’s mine and it’s all I have. Please take it,
hold it, keep it. I don’t deserve it, but….Love me.

And you do. I don’t know why.
In so many significant ways you show me your love.

With my broken heart and in my feeble way I treasure you and I love you.

In the dictionary of my heart is a picture of you holding my love note…
Scrawled on a scrap of paper with a crayon the wrong shade of red;
Next to the word "Love"

My tribute is you.

©2012 Michael S Davis
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Lord, I see you on the cross each day,
Through the things I do and say.
You feel the bite of a soldiers scourge,
When a brother's fall my actions urge.

A crown of thorns Your brow does pierce,
While I sin in anger, proud and fierce.
Your wounds a purple robe does burn,
As mockingly, Your love I spurn.

With hands and feet by nails ****** through,
You die the awful death I'mdue.
And as Your side the sword does cleave,
Your precious blood flows forth, for me.

Forgive me, Lord, my heart renew;
I confess, right now, my sin to You.
Your strength I need, for I'm too weak,
To live the words which now I speak;
Be glorified through me this day,
In everything I do and say.

©1980 Michael S. Davis
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
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
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
I don't quite understand
how our friendship has grown.
But, of this I'm sure,
one thing has been shown.

This special friendship,
that we now share,
endures separation;
yet, we still care.

This is not of this world,
but, of the Father above.
Yes, our special friendship
is bound by His love.

©1979 Michael S. Davis
I wrote this after meeting someone at a camp. I was fascinated at the connection we had. I have been blessed with several close relationships that have traversed the years, that began in just this way, proving that we were indeed bound by His love.
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
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 when my heart's broken,
Your love makes me whole.

Christmas without you, Lord
would be more than I could bear
but, with You in my heart,,
Your love I can share.
Christmas without you
having given Your all for me,
is a Christmas without
any presents under the tree.

©1997 Michael S Davis
See "Christmas Without You" a love poem. As is often the case the love and the experiences that grow out of our earthly relationships teach us about our relationship with God. I realized that with just a few changes, that poem would become a poem that gives insight into the true meaning of Christmas.
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
Time apart from you
Is time to reflect on the love we know.
All the time away from you
Will be time for me to grow.
This time without you
Gives me time to be a better man.
Any time when I’m not near you
Shortens the time ‘til I’m with you again.
Time imprisoned in love for you
Grants me the freedom to live.
This time deprived of you
Stores treasures of love to give.

My time, like me, is yours.

©2000 Michael S Davis
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
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
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
In repentance and salvation
we are given a new heart,
our old hearts having been reduced
to nothing by our sinfulness.
Then God does what He did
that first day of creation.
He creates something new and good
ex nihilio,
out of nothing!

©2013 Michael S. Davis
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
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
How can I explain the freedom
Our love has given us;
Freedom to be ourselves
Without  pretense or a fuss.

Into each others' eyes we gaze
And see a wonder there
That transcends the whole wide world
With a trust so rare.

It’s a freedom we cant’ hide
And threatens those in chains,
Who can’t understand our love
And must tolerate their pains.

So, we just live in patience
And endure this time apart,
Knowing we have this freedom
That comes only from the heart.

©1998 Michael S Davis
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.
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
It seems a lifetime of years ago,
a precious child was born,
full of hope and promise
like the sunrise every morn.
In the years from that day since,
she’s faced many a circumstance.
some would bring her loving joy,
others painful hurt;
but in the sunrises now ahead,
one thing we can assert . . .
This precious much loved child,
now a woman full grown,
has a future as full of hope and promise
as on the day that she was born.

©2013 Michael S Davis
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
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
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.
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.
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
Because you have given me your heart,
My face smiles in your presence
My eyes sparkle at your glance.
My skin tingles at your touch.
My heart sighs in your arms.
My soul shivers at the thought of life without you.
When I think about how you love me,
My mind can’t believe I deserve such a love.

Because I have given you my heart
I pray that gift will always bring you happiness:
A smile upon our face,
A sparkle in your eyes,
A magic in our touch,
A sigh within my arms;
That we will never know life without our love.

©2000 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
Hold hands with me . . .
Let me entwine my fingers with yours,
Then squeeze to feel the pulse of your love.

Walk with me . . .
Or just let me walk with you,
with a skip in my step, as I soak in your presence.

Stand with me . . .
And let me gaze into your eyes
To bask in the warmth of your soul.

Live with me . . .

Hand in hand,
     Side by side,
          Eye to eye,
               Heart to heart.

©1998  Michael S. Davis
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
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
How could you love me,
A sinner - and oh, so vain?
How could you love me,
When I fail You again and again?
How could you love me,
When I halfheartedly love you back?
How could you love me,
When I can't even stay on track?

Yet, somehow You love me,
Enough to suffer and die.
Yet, somehow You love me,
One who fails You as much as I.
Yet, somehow You love me,
Today, tomorrow and alway.
I don't know how you can love me
Day, after day, after day.

Help me to love You,
And put aside selfishness and pride.
Help me to love You,
And strive to walk close by your side,.
Help me to love You,
To live moment by moment for you.
Help me to love you,
And by Grace to your love remain true.

© 2013 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
I love you.
I love you, by knowing you.
I know you, by hearing you.
I hear you, by holding you.
I hold you, by freeing you.
I free you, by seeing you.
I see you, by touching you.
I touch you, by pleasing you.
I please you, by feeling you.
I feel you, by filling you.
I fill you, by loving you.
I love you!

© 2004 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
I’m looking in your window and see you looking back,
Reflecting all the feelings that we share.
I see the joy and trust
That comes from understanding,
And I see the love that flows from between us there..
The image that I see, is really crystal clear,
For the streaks that once obscured our point of view
Have been polished all away
By the efforts of two souls to see each truth.
Yes, I’m looking in your window,
And I’ll keep looking in your window
For the rest of both our long and loving lives;
Because, I am looking in the window of your eyes.

©2013 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
No words can express what you have done to my soul.
Something was missing and now I feel whole.

I can’t comprehend what you’ve done to my mind.
You accepted and helped me my true self to find.

Indescribable feelings flood through my heart.
To live life without you would tear me apart.

  Inexpressible words,
                   Incomprehensible ideas,
                                            Indescribable feelings,

Could best let me say how your love’s left me dealing
With Inexpresscomprehensivedescribable You !

©1999 Michael S. Davis
If you have never experienced the fun and silliness that love brings into your life, then I am sorry you have missed out...and doubt that you have truly experienced love. This is just one of those silly poems and I mean every word of it!
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
We’re in love.
Felt every time we think of each other,
Seen each time we look into each other’s eyes,
At work in all of our actions toward one another,
And complete in our vision of our future together.

Can we prove it?
The proof is with God —
Our love is a matter of faith.
Our faith in each other and our faith in God.
That is the substance of our love,

The evidence that proves
We’re in love.

©1998 Michael S Davis
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Just to hold and feel you close to me,
as you sigh and feel me next to you;
and perhaps, to ease the loneliness
of the moments when you feel so terribly.
It’s so hard to see you in distress
and not be able to take your pain away
as you would mine, if it were me,
that needed upon your breast to rest.
Oh, to protect you from all harms
would be my vow if it were in my power
to make everything all right,
by cradling you forever close to me, in my arms.

©1999 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
There’s magic in my coffee cup,
and laundry folded and put up.
My shirts are hanging fully pressed
ready for me when I get dressed.
My checkbook’s balanced, the bills get paid,
the carpet’s vacuumed, the bed is made;
there’s food in the kitchen and the bathroom’s clean,
the trash is emptied and the plants are green.
And at the start of every day
with a magic kiss I’m on my way.
And as the day draws to a close
your magic touch can curl my toes.
In days filled with joy or strife
You are the magic in my life.
I know on this I can depend –
you'll make the magic happen.

© 2011 Michael S. Davis
This is a tribute and not an assumption that all the things mentioned here are her responsibility.These are just a few of the ways that my wife expresses her love and care for me. We do share tasks. I hope there are many things she can say about me and the magic i bring to her life. I wrote this because I did not want her to think I took these things for granted. The real magic is I don't know how she does it all.
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
It’s so hard.
You want to do the right thing, things.
Your children are so precious and so in need of your care.
You ask yourself, “How can I do it?”
You don’t know the answers.
You’re scared.
You don't know what to do.
You don't know anyone you can depend on.
I know what you can depend on.
It’s what you have always relied on.
It’s the reason there has always been food on the table.
It’s the reason there has always been a roof over your head.
It’s the reason you have three beautiful children.
It’s the reason you have overcome every painful obstacle
this old world has put in your path.
It’s the reason you love so freely.
It’s the reason you’re loved so deeply.
You know it’s always been true.
God has promised “I will be with you!”
You can depend on that.
You can depend on Him.
That’s why you are going to make it.
That’s why all of your needs will be met.
That’s why you will be able to take care of your children.
Listen and believe, as God whispers in your ear,
“I will be with you.”

©2013 Michael S. Davis
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.
Michael S Davis Mar 2013
Just three words. . .
                                Three words than can never tell
                                The feelings that within me swell                  
                                Three words that try to say
                                Just how lovely you make each day.

                                Three words, that's all I know
                                To tell you what my heart would show.
Just three words. . .  
                                I know they're true.
                                They must be said. . .
                                                                    I love you.

©1978 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
Just You and me, Lord;
alone a few moments, I bask in Your love
away from all torments.

Just You and me, Lord;
in praise adoration, I now do renew
my faithful devotion.

Just You and me, Lord;
Your Word fresh and new, helps me see things
from Your point of view.

Just You and me, Lord;
we'll walk hand in hand, as I tell Your Good News,
right by me You'll stand.

©1990 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Feb 2013
Sensing your presence,
Feeling your heart,
Understanding your convictions,
Reading your thoughts,
Hearing your words,
Echoing your prayers,
Whispering your longings,
Dreaming your dreams,
Exploring your flesh,
Breathing your name,
Grinning your laughter,
Crying your tears,
Watching your rapture,
Embracing your love,
Knowing you.

©2013 Michael S. Davis
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
By myself without
my family,
my wife,
my child.

Denied,
Rejected,
Severed.

Barricaded
From my love,
For my love,
With my love.

Heartfelt loneliness.

Hold me.

©1996 Michael S Davis
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