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Look at that queue

That is the queue
To empower the soul
With a faith in life

Never heard it before
Then,
Why I’m here?
Genre: Spiritual
Theme:Blessing Seeds
Zell 2d
And right in that corner i cried aloud,
Where i knew no one could hear the sound.

The warmth of His embrace
Erased the wrath of those days.

It is He.
Him that i cannot see
Who calmed the storm in me.
© 2018 D.A. Barreras
When your adoration is not mutually shared,
and you face your anguish forlorn,

you will learn that love is both
a blessing and a curse.
Eve Sep 26
To be blessed ,
favored and protected by the environment,
selected and isolated from your social groupings,
To be blessed is to synthesize what truly has meaning in life and self-meditate with the sake of life’s pace.
Before falling asleep, resting, force the mental to remain awake,
processing and breaking apart the information given today,
despite the fact that time wasn’t kind, brief or even prolonged; make it the moral commitment to self-reflect.
Make a correction if your answer is wrong; the fabrication of a scripture,
Make sure, for certain, that all the totaled scores calculate to a certain percentage,
Affirmed, scolded or ruled by another to convey your defined truth as inaccurate, almost there or rarely ample.
Time is allotted, effortless and to be taught a lesson is a blessing,
Space is limited, given and to be bestowed the gift of building is the set up version of a lesson, a shell of a blessing.
Delia Darling Sep 23
The one who gave me a heated blanket
While switching it out every so often
Covering my wounds with caution

The one who gave me water
All concerned about me,
Like I was her daughter

The one who gave me slippers to keep
So I don't leave with ***** feet
(and wouldn't take no as an answer)

Who's soft eyes held no accusation
Blinding those with which
My thoughts held in possession—
That'd say I ******* up once again

These people cared about me
A lot more than I did
Gave me a kindness that
I had never yet tasted
A loving memory between strangers
For the rest of my life, I'll never waste it

With the sincerest of wishes,
Bless all you nurses out there
I **** at writing cheesy poetry.. eh oh well
Sow a Good Seed
When you sow a good seed, you see a good harvest
You work hard every day and try to stay modest
You pray every day and try to live honest
You may have some problems but you own and then solve them.
Sow a Good Seed
Your harvest is plenty and hard work is not futile
The clouds grew dark and the winds were brutal
You just keep on plowing because your dedication is undisputable
Sow a Good Seed
When you sow good seeds, you reap a plentiful harvest
Don’t think it was easy because you didn’t see me through the darkness
No matter how many seeds are sown
No matter how many plants are grown
Know that if the harvest seems like its slow, it is not a blessing denied, but instead, a blessing postponed that's waiting to be bestowed!
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2
A lily given and adorns my hair;
my lucky charm.
Short and sweet! ^-^
Lyn ***
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2


Cradle each day of life within
your years


What better way to start the day than with a poem? Morning everyone! ^-^
Even when you're facing hardships, be grateful that your still here!
Treasure each day, both good and bad.
Be back soon!
Lyn ***
Lyn-Purcell Aug 7
'Oh, when will you return, my love?' wondered Kourê,
   as she lays on the daybed, in the cradle of                        
          Spring's clime; how the nights and days make                        
her so weary, as the yellowed flames sway idle              
So many flowers sent,                                            
each rich with memory.      
Violets coiling around the triumphal arch;              
His smile after their first kiss under
the flushing dawn.
Starlings who sing ever so sweet;                              
the song of him preaching of her being
                       a bright glory before others.
Crystal chandeliar that hangs from the ceiling;
                            Her on a small bench, his hands massaging
                              warm oils between her fae-sculpted
      feet and toes.
The roses; a rouge kiss in the light of the shade
          The harp; a white daybed draped
                            with a scarlet sheet.
She yearns for a hug from him, bathing ****
          in light, as their hearts beat in sync
                              and reach the sky.
All she wants is a sweet rest, his hand on her
fine head;                                                
            stroking, sighing, eyes shining,              
                  water that trembles between fingers,
happiness linger!
A feather drifts earnest, the glittering of stars,
And now she cools, recalling their sweet        
goodbye as he rides his mare,
            snow cloak shines eternally.
'Yours is a beauty that will never wilt,' he cooes,
placing a rose in her hair.                  
A rose.                      
A rose...        
Her eyes falls on the white rose in the vase,
              lonesome, thornless proud...                  
We marvel its beauty, its earthbound performance                       
 She holds the rose in her hand, staring at its                    
its crowning glory; petalled virtue
By her ivory velveteen fingers                                          
long finger,
               slim thumb-
She plucks petal by petal by petal by petal
as she looks to the day-sky
                      with a dreaming mind
And when the crown is gone,                            
                       her face is touched by a frown                        
                and the ***** stem,
                                    marred by her sensitivity-
                                            ***** of its own beauty-
                                                    for her hand's sake,
her yearning for her lionesque lover,              
                                         and aurorian prayers?          
The stem falls, ***** and bald on the ground
    as she closes her eyes, saddened...
She cannot bear the sight of snow-kissed            
flowered bays without the sun,
                   her hymn-
                                  her shield-
Know the true secret behind the red, red rose  
As none know of its venomous mantle    
this Rose lingered in the vase only to be
defiled.
Taken advantage of only to
                            be dumped-
A laughing stock as another more beautiful
                            flower will take its place
Boiling with vengeance, the stem is hale,
jade with envy-
                                               barbed with thorns, a poisoned desire
                      to shield its body,
Its pride, its crown stolen-
                                     From snow to blood-
                                                    its pain turned crimson,
No longer will tears of dew fall!
'It matters not,' Kourê thinks, 'another rose will bud.'
For they, like many perennials and sentient life,
                          are conscious of its limited beauty!
'Mine own beauty and his will last forever.'
From the light beyond,
she sees him.
                                       Her sun that rides the mare!
She runs into his embrace- a pair of happy doves
Her fingers in his gold curls
as he bends the knee,
The air lovingly cold at this display!                  
Ever so content!
                                          Blessings upon the lily in the snow!
Upon her hands, the blood of a rose,
that swears vengeance upon her
for it will be the catalyst!
Blood for blood!
                                  The rose will rise and curse
them with pain ten-fold...
Final part of the free-verse!
Hope you enjoyed it!
I came up with a little sad myth behind why the rose has thorns. Why the white roses are truly red. What did you think? I have roses in my garden but I don't pick the petals, they're too pretty!
What did you think of Kourê? Do let me know!
Love you guys! Thanks so much!
Lyn ***'
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