Poems of Passion
THE WAIL OF A SAINT
Lord I wish I could pray. It’s a malady that eats my bones like cancer and blight. Oh my passion is stolen! Lord, I wish I could pray my house is on fire; I fear the axe is laid at the root if I don’t bear fruit. My treasures are lost but if I could just linger and not slumber like peter, if I can but touch the hem of His garment. Eternity is not mine and yesterday I can’t find, but this moment I wish I could cease and pray till him I see.
All is well they say if I can but pray and travail. Oh where are those sweet hours of prayer of which my soul doth smell His flavor! Lord could you but heal my feeble knees that I may prevail in the place of prayer today. If a spiritual man I be then where is my place of prayer? I must pray or fail.
Sheep are scattered abroad, and perishing sinners perish the more, with hell enlarge to accommodate the tempter’s spoil. But oh if only I could pray, the savior’s demand I can pay!
MY BELOVED
My beloved, he is my only hope because he is the only thing in my life, a poor young fellow who seems happy with everything. His skin was as fair as a ripe papaya, red lips, bushy eyelid and curly hair. He is handsome, a perfect work of a careful art, best of men created. I wished you saw us. We were an indivisible pair. His manners was as peaceful as the evening breeze at the beach side. Hmm, oh my beloved! During the wars, he left home to further his studies. That morning he smiled generously at me. I could not help but smile back. His smile had a way of bringing healing to one’s soul. I saw him varnish like flames into the distance, he turned to look at me again and continued. With stammering lips, I almost spoke, and tears flowing into my eyes like an ocean over flowing it bank, I almost spoke “please let me join you”. I muttered, ‘will I see you again’? That night I was uneasy, stumbling on a pic he’s left behind, I reminisce over the last conversation we had with my finger caressing the pic at the same time till I slept off. In a dream, I saw my beloved wear his usual smile. ‘Dad, I forgot to say good bye’… “Son, I’ll join you soon”
MY BELOVED
My beloved, he is my only hope because he is the only thing in my life, a poor young fellow who seems happy with everything. His skin was as fair as a ripe papaya, red lips, bushy eyelid and curly hair. He is handsome, a perfect work of a careful art, best of men created. I wished you saw us. We were an indivisible pair. His manners was as peaceful as the evening breeze at the beach side. Hmm, oh my beloved! During the wars, he left home to further his studies. That morning he smiled generously at me. I could not help but smile back. His smile had a way of bringing healing to one’s soul. I saw him varnish like flames into the distance, he turned to look at me again and continued. With stammering lips, I almost spoke, and tears flowing into my eyes like an ocean over flowing it bank, I almost spoke “please let me join you”. I muttered, ‘will I see you again’? That night I was uneasy, stumbling on a pic he’s left behind, I reminisce over the last conversation we had with my finger caressing the pic at the same time till I slept off. In a dream, I saw my beloved wear his usual smile. ‘Dad, I forgot to say good bye’… “Son, I’ll join you soon”
A BED TO
LAY – a poem
My heart seeks where to lay,
In the many cares of life it ponders
and so do my feet wonder,
but there was no worthy treasure yonder.
Then my heart found these treasure of words
So sweet it can’t wait to joy.
It soon join in melodious procession.
Oh my heart you can now lay in this worthy field of treasure;
Then sing my heart to the lord of the field:
how it’s now can refresh and do refresh.
Yes the majestic lord of the field
do call out come fill yourself with life that you might live.
Not ever did my heart seek were to lay,
for it has found a bed for it home,
Provided by the lord our groom.
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