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Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Our English Rose
by Michael R. Burch

for Christine Ena Burch

The rose is—
the ornament of the earth,
the glory of nature,
the archetype of the flowers,
the blush of the meadows,
a lightning flash of beauty.

NOTE: This is my translation of a Sappho epigram. It was originally titled "Sappho's Rose" before I chose to dedicate it to my mother, Christine Ena Burch, who was born and raised in England. Keywords/Tags: Rose, ornament, glory, nature, archetype, flowers, blush, meadows, flash, beauty, lightning
Dez Apr 2020
Dear God holy you are
And surpass me by far
Your thoughts I could never understand
But one day I shall see you in glory land
Where I shell utter praises evermore
For you are not some made up folklore
You are the King of Kings
And on you rests my whole being
My words to fall short
Of giving a report
Of your greatness and might
Of which I now do write
For though I now compose
Feeble words to up lift he that arose
One day I shall sing
Praises for eternity to the king
But for now I shall be content
To write my words
And worship you with the birds
And point to you
The only God that’s true
Praise be to your name
None other is the same
I close with this
Though your glories I could ever list
That you are ever great
But you came to earth and set your own fate
To face the cross
And to suffer loss
To save me from they wrath
And to set me on a new path
All for your glory
For this is all your story
Praise to the maker of men
Amen
Tyler Matthew Mar 2020
As sun sets over the mountain,
crowning this miraculous country,
wreathing it in purest gold,
visions of absent glory
cleave to the luster hanging,
suspended above the contours
of this majestic empire,

and by the light of that brilliant corona,
enduring the blameless and bitter dusts of time,
a delicate mirage emerges,
chronicling the last vestiges
of the valorous heroes who came before,
who influence our proud and dignified march.

And where a ceremony awaits -
beyond the scope of that western realm,
beyond the reach of that bleeding sun
into which silhouettes now fade -
to laurel today's new hero with a crown
of golden light,
so too awaits the ecstatic promise
of a brand-new, untamed world.
Title taken from and poem inspired by a song, "The Ecstasy of Gold" by Ennio Morricone.
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
-in honor of Matthew Hennigan, Vinson Adkinson and everyone else who gave the ultimate sacrifice for their brothers and sisters in arms, you are missed every day

Oh, sweet empty mountain
in your quiet majesty,
Overwatching flowing rivers
meandering through a hushed valley,
And the sparsely growing forest
littered with ruins of times forgot,
In this silent, flowing landscape
for which many nations have fought

Oh, the things you've seen oh mountain,
from triumph to betrayal
To lovers' first awkward kiss,
and children battling so playful
And in waves, you saw it change,
one year peace, the next year tense
You have witnessed arc of all mankind,
each and every sad offense

You witnessed the day when they sat
upon your steep marble mountainside,
Wrapped in ratty tan blankets,
whose purpose was to let them hide
And fingers lay on naked triggers,
muzzles pointed to the road
Cloaked men carried bandoliers,
so their gunners needn't reload

And in the early dawn of light,
the first 'crack' echoed off your side
As a battlefield erupted,
the roaring of a violent fight
Oh, you ancient hunk of rock,
overseeing all as many died
In the distance could you hear,
the faint sound as we all cried?

Rest in peace you glorious *******
I love you Matty and Vinny
I'll see you again one day
Can't really talk about this one.
Alyssa Underwood Feb 2020
When all of worldly beauty's lost
When form and face have borne the cost
Of life's sojourn upon this earth
A greater glory then springs forth

When vanity is cast aside
With long-dashed dreams and fallen pride
At last a better hope I see
One anchored in eternity

When no one gives a second glance
Or offers promise of romance
I know the One whose love is true
Who looks beyond what most men do

When wit and charm have fled from thought
And company's no longer sought
There's still One friend who longs to hear
My every word, desire and fear

When awkwardness is more the rule
Than competence and being cool
His words I hear so gently spoken,
"Come, poor in spirit and all who are broken."

When those around me criticize
With disapproval in their eyes
He spreads His arms with full embrace
And wears acceptance on His face

When kindred spirit can't be found
And understanding's wayward bound
The One who knows me best will be
Thinking precious thoughts toward me

When foot is slipping, mind astray
From trying to fix things my own way
He rescues me with hourly grace
And sets me in a spacious place

When economic tailwinds stall
While monetary riches fall
He calibrates my heart's due trust
Toward treasure that can't rot or rust

When all my naught attempts at fame
Lie crushed beneath a weight of shame
I seek the fame of Him instead
Who calls my name and lifts my head

When youth and vigor fade away
And triumph seems an ancient day
My strength can rest in One who brings
Fresh power to soar on eagle's wings

When my last breath some day I take
Death's shadowed crossing, hence, to make
Upon Christ's nail-scarred feet I'll fall
To kiss that One who is my ALL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."
~ 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Emily Mitchell Feb 2020
Treetops glowing gold
in the moment of sunrise
fading to mundane.
I accidentally / inadvertently saw the sunrise one morning I was spacing out looking at the orange glow and then it crested The Horizon and shone in my eyes hahaha I thought this is incredibly beautiful and it happens almost every single day but few are around to see it at the very moment it happens.
(11-13-17)
Serendipity Feb 2020
There is no glory
in war.
Your heroes are forever
stained with the sound
of whizzing bullets
and spilled guts.
The soil shall no longer produce
fruit nor anything sweet.
The ground was watered with blood and death.

There is no more life in it.
noren tirtho Feb 2020
It's a ghost city
where the dread of death
stalks the dead.  

A corpse gazes
into the mirror
to feign a state of the living.

A brutal past haunts
memory's grave;
Unfinished stories remain forsaken.

A desolate shadow
falls on an unceasing night;
the stillborn day mourns.

Cry of a vanished era
bares a collapsed glory;
Pride falls from grace.
Iggy Chuck Jan 2020
We wander
through the sleeping town,
through its glory and its misery

The night is ours
and only she knows
the words of passion
that spill from our mouths

What a beautiful feeling
knowing that neither the moon
nor the stars
are going to tell on us

Because we belong in the night
and she belongs to us.
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