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"overawed" poems
The weathermen were not prepared, the storm turned West towards the shore For eighteen hours it came down in blinding sheets three feet and more. It buried cars, it covered streets It weighted down branches on the trees, it dusted roofs It snarled the roads, The winter storm did as it pleased When it was done, the air was calm a cold serene and peaceful scene. The snow in drifts lay on the ground as I looked upon what once was green. Then, as whiteness overawed the earth A single red snowdrop appeared. It briefly touched the snow draped earth then rose again towards heaven's sphere then one by one, here and there flakes disengaged and rose on high until all the snow that was earthbound in blinding flight had disappeared. In a flash, the snow was gone The fields of earth once more were green No traces of the storm remained like a half remembered dream.
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Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 10:58 PM UTC
The Blizzard
She smiles Like the sun kissed flowers Staring up at the sky On a field of never-ending blossoms in the summer’s light But don’t be fooled There’s a tempest brewing The cumulonimbus clouds murk over her inner world So deep into her immaculate soul it’s pursuing She loves Like the moon’s devotion To the vault of heaven On a glorious gloom But don’t be fooled Her darkness is the asphalt On the terra firma When the vale is most coruscating She exposes Her finest face Like an overawed beau on the first night Of ********** But don’t be fooled Her behemoth lies slightly waken In the depths of her muddled consciousness Like a war solider awaiting command She is two sides Of the same coin Tossing for heads or tails Don’t be fooled sa 13.09.18
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Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:14 AM UTC
Don't Be Fooled
When I did sail across the boundless sea Through waves and wondrous shores, and wayward winds, I traveled into earth's philosophy, And saw the ocean’s daunting thrills, Its majesty become a living thought— At nature’s host I did but hardly glimpse. I only wish to see what beauty wrought, From shoreless seas to forests, meadows, leas, And many sights that held me overawed. That endless dream I now no longer see, For I’m in glory’s blindness now confined, And now I pray to once again be free. When I do close my eyes one final time, I only wish to dwell in nature’s shrine.
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Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
The Boundless Sea
A heart is a war, a heart is a shutter One stream of light is allowed to escape Far into your chambers a ceiling is painted Mosaic by name, but truer to form: An electrical storm we ourselves engineered to Perpetuate evils eluded before In the grimness of what lies behind the mind's door When we met as two fangs in the jaw of a serpent And you were the flares arcing up towards the sky And I was the lens overawed by your light Yes, I was what bent you with colors diffracted Now I am that glass which your mildew begrimes Color me flyblown, or color me blind Marred are the edges around this old glass The ink inundates and the horn is all hollow Latched is our gate when the causeways collapse Besieged now in my ocean of ink Scanning the night sky for sign of a flare No whisper, no shutter, no lingering there
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Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 8:06 PM UTC
Color Me Flyblown
When Pastors meet and Pastors pray... God leans down from His Throne, To listen to the words they say... and any wisdom shown... He harkens to their fervent needs... desires, hopes and dreams, For without Him, not one succeeds... regardless of extremes... Not one can boast, save in the Lord, because of all He's done, That's why the best are overawed... that God spared not His Son... To think, Christ died for Pastors, too... yet now their flocks direct, Perhaps they even pray for you... as one of God's elect... What insights will such Pastors gain? What blessings will God send? What projects started yet remain... on which God's saints depend? I only know that God approves of Pastors young and old And that through such as these God moves... when they're as good as gold! Denis Martindale April 2018.
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May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
WHEN PASTORS PRAY...
America is so big, large to the point of immense my small island perimeter mind cant take in that much I would be lost out there, way out west overawed, eyes spinning in their sockets, a kid in a candy store, given too many choices.
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Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 2:04 PM UTC
a kid in a candy store
You are scared by my shadow But overawed by my silhouette!!!
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May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC
You are...
The lovely love of Jesus grows! It's building day by day! And that's the truth each Christian knows... if faithful still to pray! It's through such love this world was made! It's how forgiveness came! The love of Jesus cannot fade! That's why we praise His Name! The lovely love of Jesus lives... because it cannot die! Just think of everything it gives! More joys! Less times to cry... And while there's life, there's hope, of course... with resurrection peace... A peace surpassing all Man's wars... a peace that cannot cease... The lovely love of Jesus, friends! That's what God wants for you! A perfect love that never ends... a love steadfast and true... Look on His hands, look on His feet... look on His heart as well... Because I did, my life's complete... God's Son saved me from Hell... The lovely love of Jesus brings a heart of flesh and more... The strength with which each angel sings... and they can sing, for sure... They praise the Lord, they serve the Lord... They harken to our prayers... That's why they're always overawed... at just how much Christ cares... Denis Martindale March 2018.
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May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 10:42 AM UTC
THE LOVELY LOVE OF JESUS!
Lifeless slivers of souls I use to know Beggin to meet their saviors Chanting empty prayers Only to be rejected at the hand of God Futures set in stone The creature inside begins to eat them alive Frantically swallowing poison to **** it alone Without realizing the cure and monster are allies The people's overawed moans dissipate into the dark
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Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 2:07 AM UTC
Where's prayers