Poems Junction

Passion fills my heart for you my precious love,

when you died for me upon the cross, a gift from God above.

Oh the agony you suffered to set my soul free,

from sin and wrath of judgment, when you died upon that tree.

A sudden burst of glory when you came up from the grave,

you paid the ransom for my soul, defeating death that day.

I long to be with you, to feel your sweet embrace,

to worship before your throne, to behold your wondrous face,

to hear your thunderous voice proclaiming victory,

you are the Lamb of God, the one who died for me.

This poem was written/submitted by Julie L. McCarty.

If you could find the perfect church
Without one fault or smear
For goodness sake, don’t join that church You’d spoil the atmosphere.

But since no perfect church exists
Where people never sin
Let’s cease looking for that church
And love the one we’re in

This poem was written/submitted by Father Thomas.

The early morning dew glistens adorning the tapestry of God’s garden.
Dawn gracefully spreads her wings and with joy declares His loving kindness.
The rising sun smiles upon the earth, radiantly shining forth God’s glory.
Nature humbly genuflects honoring the Creator and His Righteousness.
Daylight exhibits exquisite paintings of the heavens and the earth.
Shades of colors unmatched by man, uniquely designed by God’s loving hand.
A picturesque view, beautiful to behold by those who have eyes to see royalty displayed,
Evidence of God’s perfect love with excellencies so grand.
A candle-like glow of the setting sun portrays God’s majestic handiworks.
Brilliant spectrums softly brush the sky, filling our hearts with breathless delight.
The daytime slowly dissipates, glittering stars and moon now earth’s light,
And while the dawn peacefully sleeps, God becomes our sweet song in the night.

This poem was written/submitted by Christine V. Cole.

There’s work to do, deadlines to meet,
you’ve got no time to spare,
But as you hurry and scurry,
always say a prayer.

In the midst of family chaos,
“quality time” is rare.
Do your best; let God do the rest:
Always say a prayer.

It may seem like your worries are
more than you can bear.
Slow down and take a breather-
always say a prayer.

God knows how stressful life is;
He wants to ease our cares,
and He’ll respond ASAP-
Always say a prayer!

This poem was written/submitted by Father Thomas.

When you feel unlovable, unworthy and unclean,
When you think that no one can heal you,
Remember, Friend,
God Can.

When you think that you are unforgivable
For your guilt and your shame
Remember, Friend,
God Can.

When you think that all is hidden
And no one can see within
Remember, Friend,
God Can.

And when you have reached the bottom
And you think that no one can hear
Remember my dear Friend
God Can.

And when you think that no one can love
The real person deep inside of you
Remember my dear Friend,
God Does.

This poem was written/submitted by Father Thomas.

When God calls little children
to dwell with him above,
We mortals sometime question
the wisdom of his love.
For no heartache compares
with the death of one small child.
Who does so much to make our world
seem wonderful and mild..
Perhaps God tires of calling
the aged to his fold,
So he picks a rosebud
before it can grow old.
God knows how much we need them,
and so he takes but few,
To make the land of heaven
more beautiful to view.
Believing this is difficult,
still somehow we must try.
The saddest word mankind knows
will always be “Good-bye”.
So when a child departs,
we who are left behind must realize
God loves children…
Angels are hard to find.

This poem was written/submitted by Father Thomas.

I once thought marriage took
Just two to make a go,
But now I am convinced
It takes the Lord also.

And not one marriage fails
Where Christ is asked to enter,
As lovers come together
With Jesus at the center.

But marriage seldom thrives,
And homes are incomplete,
Till He is welcomed there
To help avoid defeat.

In homes where Christ is first,
It’s obvious to see,
Those unions really work,
For marriage still takes three.

This poem was written/submitted by Father Thomas.

In the silence
The clarity of your voice,
Climbs high
Upon the eagle’s wings.
The chains of doubt
That imprison my soul,
Fall away beneath my feet.
In the freedom and majesty
Of the sentinels gaze,
Faith is strengthened
And hope returned
To a weary heart,
Upon the silent flight
Of eagle’s wings.

This poem was written/submitted by Chris Roe.

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn — not enough rain, or to little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise,
It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too.
That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.”
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors, orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, “Just what I need.”
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver, tears shone like the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
You’re welcome,” he smiled, and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he’d had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he’d been blessed with true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life, and appreciate every second that’s mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in his hand
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

This poem was written/submitted by Father Thomas.

I woke up early today excited over all I get to do before the clock strikes midnight.
I have responsibilities to fulfill today. I am important.
My job is to choose what kind of day I am going to have.

Today I can complain because the weather is rainy or…
I can be thankful that the grass is getting watered for free.

Today I can feel sad that I don’t have more money or..
I can be glad that my finances encourage me to plan my purchases wisely and guide me away from waste.

Today I can grumble about my health or…
I can rejoice that I am alive.

Today I can lament over all that my parents didn’t give me when I was growing up or…
I can feel grateful that they allowed me to be born.

Today I can cry because roses have thorns or…
I can celebrate that thorns have roses.

Today I can mourn my lack of friends or…
I can excitedly embark upon a quest to discover new relationships.

Today I can whine because I have to go to work or…
I can shout for joy because I have a job to go to.

Today I can complain because I have to do housework or…
I can feel honored because the Lord has provided shelter for my mind, body and soul.

Today stretches ahead of me, waiting to be shaped.
And here I am, the sculptor who gets to do the shaping.
What today will be like is up to me. I get to choose what kind of day I will have!!!

Have a GREAT DAY… unless you have other plans.

This poem was written/submitted by Father Thomas.