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Open Poetry #22
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VAS
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-11-16
Posts 7450
Oregon

0 posted 2002-09-10 09:43 PM


It Was a Summer Morn

could it have been His slightest touch that stayed their journeys home?
and what of them who followed Him in dust and clouds as foam?

were all their journeys over, had they satisfied their deeds,
is there a way to know for sure in sifting of the reeds?

so many lives were crumbled and in death were bourne,
snatched away in disarray, that fateful summer morn

taken in the waning of sunshine and of light
stolen in a moment when day became as night

darkness all around in our hearts, in our souls,
as hatred blocked the light from ever deepening woes

yet, someone lit a candle, it shone around the world
and on doorposts across the land, Old Glory hung unfurled

united in their love and prayers, sisters, brothers all
standing in a mighty way to honor God’s great call

a year has come and gone, since the semblance of peace
had been shattered by the enemy, his realm beneath our reach

yet, vengeance is Mine, says our God, in heaven above
and raining down upon us all, He sent eternal love

His will is surely that which we see as sceptor in His hand
we take up His promises to spread across the land

candles lighted, banners flown, in faith our hearts receive
the fabric of His wondrous love, and ardently believe


©September 10, 2002


Whether on the shoal or on the shore,
I'll seek the lighthouse evermore.

© Copyright 2002 Virginia Salter - All Rights Reserved
WhiteRose
Member Elite
since 2002-07-23
Posts 3208
somebody's dungeon
1 posted 2002-09-10 09:46 PM


yet, vengeance is Mine, says our God, in heaven above
and raining down upon us all, He sent eternal love

His will is surely that which we see as sceptor in His hand
we take up His promises to spread across the land

candles lighted, banners flown, in faith our hearts receive
the fabric of His wondrous love, and ardently believe

Beautifully said. I enjoyed this!

the_loner_23
Member Ascendant
since 2002-06-08
Posts 5479
Jacksonville, Florida, USA
2 posted 2002-09-10 09:55 PM


Beautifully written

Cold hands means a warm heart

A. L. Becker
Member
since 2002-09-06
Posts 167
San Francisco, California
3 posted 2002-09-10 10:40 PM


dear VAS, what a fine and beautiful poem, i am so amazed by your work.  Annika:-

"Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?'
Let us go and make our visit."
-Eliot

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