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MayC Jun 4
it may sound crazy, but
do you know how many
species of ducks are there ?
beautiful, gracious, colorful
well, of course not.
because you'd rather
spend your time
crying over another copy
of a swan.

-May Colde
try to find the beauty in the unique.
Nadine Mar 20
Thank you God for blessings
And your loving tender care
For everything you give me
And your love with me you share

Thank you for the hardship
And the suffering I endure
The trials and tribulation
You'll pull me through for sure

No matter what tomorrow holds
Good or bad or sad
I know that you will be there
Like a true and loving dad

Through my fears and darkest times
Through suffering and through pain
You wipe away my every tear
You take away my shame

My tears before where very tough
With many ups and downs
But at my weakest moments
You took away my frown

You always walked beside me
No matter where I went
And when I wondered and got lost
Your Holy Spirit you sent

Your love for me is endless
With good plans for me I'm sure
You have it all worked out my Lord
It's love it's kind its pure

I am so very weak you know
And you so very strong
And yet you take the time and care
To forgive me for my wrong

You polish me and neaten me
And cleanse me from within
You make me bright and shiny
And wash me from my sin

I could never find a friend like you
Someone so dear and loving
That to the cross did go for me
And freed me from my sinning

I love you Lord and Saviour
My father and my friend
My Gracious God Almighty
My king until the end
cozykaye Feb 11
I find myself
On a path of white
The snow beneath
Pure and light
The wind is harsh
Yet, I not cold
As the Sun shines bright
And in His warmth
I find comfort.
Adam Nov 2018
I’m thankful that my sin is weightless
Carried by a Father
who’s been nothing but gracious
I’ve tried to out run Him
And He kept up
Pouring His Love
In this broken cup
I’ve tried it all
I’ve danced with the devil
At the sinners ball
I let him ride
And he took the wheel
But My God was stronger
All it took was to kneel
I gave Him my life
He took my strife
Ive been given new life
The Son sacrificed
For all of my sins
Now made weightless
By a Father who’s been
nothing but gracious
stopdoopy Aug 2018
Sweet lips and kind eyes
I'd sing you all the praises a man can
My Overworked Angel

touch soft and gentle
you radiant being
a feather against my body

warm and gracious is she
perfumed voice
enough to make me bloom
Written because of Cait-Cait's poem,  "I wasn't made for love".

I'm really *** and had to make an unofficial companion piece that doesn't fit it as well as I would've liked, okay bye.
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2018
Leaves gliding gracious
Ecstasy to ride the wind
Chasing another
Lots of leaves flying around the roads
Chris Neilson May 2018
When I emerge from my slumber
at the birth of another day's light
my lucky stars are thanked
for the breath in my lungs
for the mobility in my limbs

Each day a potential new page
of a new chapter in life's book
of triumph and disaster
all treated equally, of course
as the years run their course

Breaking news can break hearts
but equally create fresh starts
this world can be cruel and heartless
but humanity can be selfless
charitable, heartwarming and kind

As the day unfolds its creases
and navigates its historical course
significance in chance meetings
will emerge in its own time
living in the moment helps memory

Some wish their lives away
ignoring chances to make a change
to the most mundane of days
to say hello to a stranger
for a random act of kindness

When I return to my slumber
after the dying of a day's light
my blessings are counted
for the sight in my eyes
for living another earthly day
So much to be thankful for
K Balachandran Apr 2018
corner shop, still lit,
dark night graciously accept
It’s significance!
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2017
of winter.
Gleaming dew
drops on leaves and
fruits. Shimmering veils of
the rising sun. Wispy drifts of
rose clouds. Lunar flames of
Midnight's moon. A sea to us,
from man to ant. The entity of
the Earth. For every form
that it takes, it's a page of
countless stories.
Wrote this by just looking at my cup of water. Something we take for granted. Water is a blessing
HollowStrength May 2017
I recently looked in my journal and saw 7 months of empty space. 7 whole months, during which the pain in my head was so great, to acknowledge it with ink would be the kiss of death. To write it down would be far too permanent, almost as though admitting pain is what gives it power.

I now know the opposite to be true. That the ink that seemed so permanent, in fact acts like a magnet, pulling the pain out and wrestling it onto the paper with all the strength of a fine point tip. The paper-pen-hand-arm-brain succession of atoms fully ready to serve you.

To them, nothing is permanent. To the pen, the ink that flows through it is as fleeting at the muscle stimulation the brain sends through the arm and hand to move. The paper, grateful for the touch of a tip before once again being left bare.  All of these things are grateful and meant to show you that good can come of something so full of pain.
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