#pastures
The sheep were in the pen, sheltered for the night
we then sat around the log fire to chat till we fall asleep,
under the open sky ,in a clearing on a wintry night.
Contrary to what I gathered, he was full of life,
there weren't any lines of worry, nor his face woebegone.
The heardsman looked cheery, humming tunes he loved aloud
which the pesky mountain wind, snatched and spread too soon.
I quiz him about his treks to find pastures for the herd,
"Isn't it a task tiring , in the rough mountain terrain?"
"It's not me who leads the hungry herd to the pastures" he says
"As it is made the world to believe by those never had seen a pasture
The sheep know where the grass in green, and find the shortest path,
as pleasing them is my only wish , I dutifully follow their lead."
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC
The Lord is good talks to me in midday and afternoon
The Lord is grand reconciles my soul has me in favor
The Lord shines the light where darkness conveys to
Majestic is the Lord's faith keeps my heart at check
I sing to the Lord worship him morning and noon
I trust the Lord fully, He keeps me alert too
Has given me words of power lets rejoice in his name
The cup of wisdom the crown of eternal life
Entrusted in my hands spiritually given sight
The words are the rhythm the poet God's hand
he has given me wisdom and given me the sword
Shall we worship his Kingdom, his name his Holy
Word ...forever more ....forever more. Amen
©Franko the Christian Poet
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
You left me for better pastures,
You did't realize I too was fertile,
You just did not know how to cultivate me.
You are just a pastoralist looking for greener places.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 1:56 AM UTC
...
..
.
if
she
loved
me
she would
let me love you
she had to be
paid with
pain
am
i
in
sane
ok
my
love
her
lips
let
me
take sips
she lets me sink her deep
her titanics are my remains
lights on
or
lights off
i love her
we love her
our insanity clings
to
her
scent
perpetually
this chamber
would not
be
spinning
if
she loved me
?
...
..
.
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 7:30 AM UTC
A rarity
The rarest glint and sparkle that is the superficial covering upon the recent snowfall, inches its way out to the very extensions of the trees' branches.
The golden glow of the amber sunset softens the chill of the evening light, reminding me of the after light of life's lessons.
Which way shall I go? Shall I follow the fading, luminescent glow of the sunset, where the colors burn to the deepest oranges, purples and reds; where the passion and fire of the days' closure sweep you off your feet and ignite passions ardor?
Or shall I stand in the patience of a dark and starry night until the gloam of mornings' edge brings the promise of yellowest brilliance and brightest blues of the light of day?
There is the rub. The sting of time threading its way in and out of nature's complex quilt. In through one side and coming out the other… On one side, there is softness, lusciousness, comfort and warmth. The other, is filled with rich and vibrant colors that evoke innermost emotions, desires and delightful excitement.
These choices do not seem to be options at all. They are here and then they are there, one moment fading into the next, as the snow thinly spreads its icy mantle upon the diverging branches of the mighty oak tree.
How simple and yet complex the vibrancy of life's significance. Effortlessness and arduousness fight one another at cliff's edges. One saunters along the boundary of craggy and stony precipices. The walkway is clear and clean where the fields above gently wave their fair-colored daisies that bow and dip in the prevailing winds overhead.
The sea beneath whistles, twirls and rushes, as it slaps and smacks its watery dispatch upon the rocks below. Frothy skycaps intimidate and yet also give way to sighing wonderment.
This is a quandary. The expression that nature presents and pushes yet pulls the spirit and the very physical limitations of humanity.
There is beauty all around. The thin veil of a lingering cover of snow on trees' branches, or at their feet, melting away into the muddiness of dying pastures.
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 6:02 PM UTC
Write a little poem, post it online,
see if anyone out there likes my rhyme:
I’ll talk easy, like a cowboy to his herd
Love songs and lullabies down to the word
Peace on the mountains, green pastures for rest
Sunsets of colors only seen in the west
Nights full of stars so easy to see
Life is the spirit that sets you free
5/20/26
May 27
May 27, 2026 at 3:23 PM UTC