amorecrea

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A Study of Reading Habits

A Study of Reading Habits Through a study of reading habits, I roam,A valley of horehound tomb, a quiet home.The view from high windows clears my sight.While ambulances haunt the edge of night. Annus mirabilis, a year of bright turns,Where breadfruit ripens and cut grass burns.In days now gone, faith healing soothed my pain,A nook where the dock grows marked gain. If hands could free you,…

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Of Valour

Of Valour Behold! I said, as time conspired,To kindle hope, where words once fired.Call not the Royal Swede unfortunate,For kings in memory’s halls resonate. Young England, where is your spark of old?Have flames of valour grown faint, gone cold?By the brook, where poets yearn to speak,Or in the castle, proud yet bleak. A parsonage veiled in Oxfordshire’s green,Holds whispered tales of what has…

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Love over very eryx love over verto eros 2004

Love over very eryx love over verto eros 2004 over very eryx Love over vero eros

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God Toots His Own Horn 2004

God Toots His Own Horn 2004 abbabeebbeebabba

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Our Angels in Heaven

From God born a blessing in this world, 1 peter 1:20 Reborn, a child of God to find blessings in heaven. 1 John 3:1 by God’s grace a sister to many, John 3:8 through God’s grace, you are not condemned,  Col. 1:21-22 Joyce, Luke 14:11 Meek and gentle all your days,  Math 5:5 you judged no one. Romans 2:1 Loved as a friend and in living prayers heard by the Lord, Romans 5:2 beloved by Jesus…

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Good News

Good News From the ancient tongue of hope and light,Euangelion, the good news takes flight.A message of peace in the wind’s soft call,A beacon of truth for one and for all.An angel descending with wings spread wide,Bringing the tidings where hearts reside.In whispers, in songs, in the stillness of night,The gospel of joy, the dawn breaking bright.The lion roars, its voice full of grace,declaring…

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Reflections on Flora and Birds

Reflections on Flora and Birds What is Feay’s Palafox? A name lost to air,Nor tongue nor pen can trace it fair.Alas! What boots the long, laborious quest,Hearts in sandhills and scrub find their rest? Yes! Thou art fair, yet be not movedBy fleeting glories or praises approved.Is it among fall blooms, untutored fails,Where silence lingers, the sparrows, quails? ‘Tis said that some have died for…

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When We Speak What We Feel

When We Speak What We Feel The sky is blue,A statement plain,a simple view. The day is bright.Facts laid bare,in the harshest light. The heart can ache,A truth like stone,cold and opaque. Life carries on.A tired refrain,through dusk and dawn. Between lines, truths conceal,we speak plain, what we say,Yet through poetry, we feel. we stand on the surface, bare,Yet what happens—when we linger…

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The Cycle of Self-Deceit

The Cycle of Self-Deceit I seek to act, yet trapped in chains,Caught in the blur of endless strive,A yearning spirit lost in pains—I move, but never feel alive.Deceitful hope does softly weave,A promise empty, yet I grieve. The heart I hold, in false delight,Awaits joy’s bloom, though it’s not real.Self-hate constrains, no will to fight,While soothing lies to sleep appeal.A cycle spins, no end…

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Celebration of your birth

Each day is a blessing, a gift untold, Each memory a picture, a tale of old, Every moment a song, a symphony to play, In the orchestra of life, we find our way. The music is in the laughter’s crescendo, A joyous dance, hearts all aglow, The tears of sadness, a gentle sigh, In the dimming light, we learn to fly. The concert of life, its rhythms entwine, In harmony and discord, its notes align,…

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A Landscape of Verse

A Landscape of Verse A brook in the city flows soft and clear,as a minor bird sings a solemn tune,past a cabin in the clearing, where dreams appear,It’s notes, a sharp pitch beneath the moon. A boundless moment on a hillside thaw,a cliff dwelling guards its ancient lore,a considerable speck, life’s smallest awe,while a girl’s garden blooms evermore. A late walk through snow-patched…

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Whimsical Tangle of What Everyone Said

Whimsical Tangle of What Everyone Said On Ning Nang Nong, in the land of Bumbley Boo,Stood Pilp Lebar, as dreams wandered through,he spoke in silly poems “Bongaloo!”“Oojah-ka-Piv,” as down the stream, swans flew. “Mirror, Mirror, what secrets do you keep?My Sister, Bazonka, tells stories so deep.A combustible woman from Thang, so bright,She lit up the skies with her fiery might.” Pussy-cat…

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Collecting Words

Collecting Words This collection of words leads my way—a map through the maze at the end of the day.Summer draws near—marking passing years—a bright turning year, gone by, soothed my fears.Life’s mystery—I search, I reveal—asks where I belong—clouds the mind’s fragile peace—memories of a song.Umbrageous—where wisdom remains—yet, time plays—Guiding me softly through life’s tangled days.Each poem…

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Journey America

Journey America Pennies clink, two cents transfers love,watched by machines without a face,a piece of silver—records won’t erase,As a boat floats in a muddy cove, Forever, the coffee color of dawn,discovery is spoken, in secrets clear.Your mind is beautiful but rain draws nearour tracks in the snow, now gone— I lived in the twentieth century, you know—Hinged to forgetfulness, like a door,I…

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A Faithful Journey

A Faithful Journey Walking carefully, step by step, I go,Like following His footsteps in the snow.Each print a guide, each mark a grace,A path of love, a holy embrace. I read His words; they light the way,A lamp unto my feet each day.Not a hurried prayer or fleeting plea,But a faithful journey, a heart set free. It’s not a sprint, nor a chance to wing,But a life transformed by the King of…

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A Song Through the Seasons

A Song Through the Seasons All the world’s a stage, so we are told,A madrigal sung, a tale retold.Carpe diem! The call rings clear,Blow, blow, thou winter wind, draw near. How like a winter hath my absence been,Cold as the frost where love was seen.Dear friend, in dirge we tread,Through fairy lands where the magic’s fled. Fear no more the heat of the sun,For life’s long race must soon be…

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A Tumble Through Words

A Tumble Through Words Black cat scurries past one and sixteen years,The prostitute fades behind neon moons.Five feet of fleeting steps, hopefuls and fears.White noise drowns her name under ghostly tunes— In an old hometown, where I failed to dream,Freedom is a breakfast food to devour.Perfume for you, but it’s anyone’s scheme,ballads mourn scholars in the twilight hour. Will you teach a……