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Monet Echo Sep 3
Some people say that they see ***.
I don't understand. How can that be?
*** is not a physical person,
He's greater than any entity.

Some people say that they hear ***.
I don't understand. How can that be?
His voice is too vast and mighty
To be tuned to a small enough degree.

But now that I HAVE seen and heard,
I know the truth behind these words.
The truth that all of the earth
Shows His Glory and sings of His Worth.

So go outside and listen.
Look around and see
The beauty of Creation
The wonder of His Majesty

I see Him in the fiery sunrise.
I hear Him in the laughing Lamb.
I feel, in every breath of wind,
The presence of the great I Am.

The beauty of a flower.
The detail in a leaf.
The indescribably complex order
That makes up every animal and beast.

Some people say there is no ***.
I don't understand. How can that be?
I have no doubt that He exists
Just by looking at a budding tree.
I am religious (obviously). So this poem reflects a bit about my journey in Christianity. I will probably share several poems on here that are Christianity focused. I don't mean to offend anyone by anything I say in any of my poems. I hope those of you who share my faith enjoy this, and I hope those of you who don't find it at least interesting! :)
Genevieveish Jul 21
My mother grew up poor and strong,
Wild and kind,
Unsteady and prime.
Black curls and brick house,
Stealing for her supper.

My mother can push and fight,
Claw and brawl,
My mother is a warrior in lamb's clothing.

She stands upon walls,
then finds her footing.
Because my mother is a warrior in lamb's clothing.

At times she's insecure and unsure,
Unknowing that
My mother is a warrior in lamb's clothing.

She pushes, bows, cares and bares,
She can endure all things, conquer all things and renew all things,
For my mother is a warrior in lamb's clothing
odegua Mar 30
The lamb and her flock
By the call of the ****
Lived in peace, day in and day out
For the Shepard kept them safe
From the wolves and the wraiths
Danger the lamb lived without
But then one day,
While the herd searched for hay
The lamb was caught in a stream
The sheep searched and sought
But they could find her nought
As the rapids swallowed her screams.

The lamb woke, eyes wide
Loudly she cried
The sound masked as though under a hood
For there she did stand
Between tree's so grand
Underneath the Great Wolf's woods.
"Where are you going, little lamb,
These woods are no place for a ram"
Said a voice that growled and snarled.
The little sheep turned
Face gentle and firm
To see the great wolf, unstartled.
"I'm sorry your highness
Please forgive my shyness
My family, haven't seen them in miles
I beg, instead of roam,
Let me into your home,
And let me stay with you for awhile?"

The wolf was taken aback
An answer it lacked
To this creatures complete lack of fear
"I know you're naive
But with a twitch i could cleave,
So please lamb, lend me your ear.
I rule this forest
The birds join in chorus
In fear of my strength they could see
So I ask you this little beast
On you I could feast
So why are you not scared of me?"

"Well because you've done me no wrong
And I've lost my own throng
My trust, I place unto you
Oh great wolf of these woods
I beg, if you could,
Become my family, too?"
"Your family, you say?
You should be my prey
But this, I shall promise to you
For your bravery today
With me, you may stay
My home shall be yours, too"

Hours became days
And in little ways
The lamb grew to love the beast
In their little den
They soon became friends
The lamb wished these days would not cease
But along came the Shepard
His flock sickly and peppered
Calling the little lamb forth
"Oh lamb, you've been found,
But the herd's sick, chased by hounds,
The cure only found to the north".

"Wolf, I must leave
My family needs me"
The lamb exclaimed, fire in her eyes
"My sweet little waif
Your flock I'll keep safe"
The wolf replied, not intending to lie
So to the north the lamb trekked
And at the cave, the wolf wreaked
And fought and bit at the hounds
They came in the night
To feast and to fight
The sick sheep, easy prey abounds

The wolf sat in the dark
her white fur just in stark
Contrast to the black night around
Her fangs cracked and chipped,
Her claws ground and clipped,
Her blood soaked deep in the ground
Yet she would not fall
To foes great and tall
She'd fight, lips caked in foam
For she could not rest
Her strength she would test
Until her lamb would come home

The lamb shambled along the path
Fearing only the forest's wrath
On her journey back to the world she's known
The land she had seen
The knowledge she's gleaned
Would help her reap the seed she'd sown
She could not stop or seize
As she stomped through the trees
Her white wool never even touched comb
For the cure she had found
So she soon would hear the sound
Of her wolf howling back in their home

The lamb arrived at the cave
Almost unscathed
By the evil that ruled the green
But the sight before her
Made her heart stir
A sight she wished she had not seen
"My wolf, dear wolf" she cried
And beside her she lied
The beast's chest gently lowered then rised.
"Please wolf, not you,
Whatever you do,
Please, do not close your eyes"

"My dear lamb, I'm sorry,
But this cannot do
Your last favor was the last I could do for you"
For these sheep I shall give
The life I had to live
That is all I can do
Now then, my dear
Please, don't shed a tear
For dying's fine, if it's for you"

The lamb could not oblige
And weeped on the wolve's hide
Tears soaking deep in her fur
Her wounds began to mend
Thanks to her dearest friend
And inside, she felt her heart stir
"Now see here lamb, I cannot die
Not well there's tears still in your eye"
The wolf chortled and cradled the ram
"I can't leave you be
Because, don't you see
I'm your wolf, and you are my lamb"
Cana Mar 29
My story of us
Of a clock blonde ticking
Counting the sheep until apocalypse
A simple verse would not suffice
Nor would a complexity borne of years.

A deluge of elocution,
Remembrance drowned.
The fickle combination of
Llamas and lambs grazing
In my backyard alongside other

The llamas wear glasses sometimes

Anguished intellectuals
Locked up in bedrooms
Chained to porches.
Their advice is good
Their words wise and thoughtful
Themselves, ****** up.

Ink stained tomes littering desks.
Nail bitten fingers clinging to pens.
Red veined eyes squinting at parchment
Words given life. But to follow ones own advice?

Rare is the joyous bespectacled llama
Bestowing wisdom onto the sheep
Watching them frolicking on the lawn
Trying to find rhythm in gangly legs
Urgently, awkwardly alone.
I just spat words onto a page.
You figure it out. I’m still trying to.
fhamideas Jan 19
The power of inner,

The will of ***,

The force of the undertaker,

I declared myself an animancer to revolve my path’s sod.

May *** blessing me.

Reverie untill reality,

Hands are the best revolution tool in the world,

Endeavor to reach verity,

Don’t wait — capability nature stunted when  35 years old.

limitation kills everybody.

Fast – is a great teacher,

bestowal gift for learner,

One, default person will eventually open their eyes widely;

Two, for the lifelong learning in time, moment, patience & opportunity.

Who doesn’t experience desperate plea?

How well verse we are with ourselves?

Are we just playing part for wolf and lamb?

We only know a thing or two, but we still delve,

like we, human, finally found the wolfram.

Within you, there is a key.

deeply blame only blair walshing with life,

Like someone aiming to connive upon you,

choice need to do again & plan need to contrive,

Life is a marathon, there is no queue.

If your new path is like boomerang, be like kylie.
Interested? read more on my blog - http://fhamideas.com/category/soul-words/
Eliah SolRae Nov 2017
Snowdrops, standing there so proud but so sad,
With a petal triad, white as milk, soft as wool.
Thou art as beautiful as an angel, as gentle as
A newborn lamb. All alone with no home.
You stay, night and day, so proud.
Pete Leon Oct 2017
Tarte Tatin Man,
He wears pears on his hands,
And he glistens like lamb,
He's Tarte Tatin Man.

Tarte Tatin Man,
He's originally from France,
And has a cousin who's a flan,
He's Tarte Tatin Man.

Tarte Tatin Man,
He wears a coat made of pans,
And bathes in butter, not jam,
He's Tarte Tatin Man.

Tarte Tatin Man,
I feel we finished this dance,
Till we meet again, perchance,
Goodbye Tarte Tatin Man.
DubJDaddy Jul 2017
Trust no one.
All will deceive you.
Trying to ensnare.
Holding you to their lies.
Cloaks for disguise
Masks for the fools.
A ball for all those.
Who dance with the flys.

True faces are hidden.
When verbiage employed.
Intentions unbalanced.
As they allude to the truth.
Hearts have been missing.
Your misplacement enjoyed.
Lured to intentions.
The light ****** from you.
Invitation to a feast.
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