What is Happening to this World (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
The agents of change demanding their freedom the despots refusing to give it to them What is happening to this ...
The agents of change demanding their freedom the despots refusing to give it to them What is happening to this ...
We are the workers in the fields, the orchards the streets, the squares his workers in God's vineyard the world ...
Though a humble infant fragile, vulnerable the creator of the universe walking in human flesh Bow before our Savior humble ...
A rare jewel priceless, yet fragile in the crucible of our hands hanging in the balance Failing to see the ...
Standing on the schoolhouse grounds waiting for the bus to come the batter and pushing of the teens and those ...
A fleeting image of freesia flickering to life for an instant flashing onto the screen So much of the beauty ...
Christ, coming into the world through his choice his going to the cross in his humility, his humbleness a gift ...
If only we could find a way to enjoy sabbath in our daily lives how our walk would be different ...
Not our earth, the Lord's not our world, the creator's Ours over which to have dominion responsibility, stewards, caretakers, gardeners ...
The Pastor was right about the error, the missed point of the scripture in the speech of the firebrand, the ...
There's something different something special sensuous, mysterious fragile, unique living, moving glass unseen movement but we believe it is there ...
Three flowers bloom each day Falsely fragile Queen Anne's Lace Clump of effervescent Daisies A singular Black-eyed Susan Wildflowers all ...
A mat of green, burgundy, and brown Covered the skin of the once open water Of the marsh, cut off ...
When in the halcyon days of old, I was a little tyke, I used to fish in pickerel ponds for ...
Pan came out of the woods one day,-- His skin and his hair and his eyes were gray, The gray ...
I should have thought in a dream you would have brought some lovely, perilous thing, orchids piled in a great ...
Some, too fragile for winter winds The thoughtful grave encloses -- Tenderly tucking them in from frost Before their feet ...
They came in masted wooden ships across an unindentured sea and cast their lot in ocean swells to chance at ...
When was the beginning, in the fertilising, in the flower, or was it deeper, in the earth beneath? No end ...
Whangaehu waters, hot-spilled from the cauldron of Crater Lake, swirling mud-green from the cup between Tahurangi and Pyramid Peak, sulphurous, ...
It is an abhorrent thing, this incarceration of your vulnerability, profoundly cruel in the way you were beaten to your ...
My hands did numb to beauty as they reached into Death and tightened! O sovereign was my touch upon the ...
I knew that James Whistler was part of the Paris scene, but I was still surprised when I found the ...
Amid the gray trunks of ancient trees we found the gay woodland lilies nodding on their stems, frail and fair, ...
Come, let us tell the weeds in ditches How we are poor, who once had riches, And lie out in ...
There is darkness behind the light -- and the pale light drips Cold on vague shapes and figures, that, half-seen ...
THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by little green trees that grew too close together. The creek was ...
Throughout the course of the generations men constructed the night. At first she was blindness; thorns raking bare feet, fear ...
WHITE maiden with the russet hair, Whose garments, through their holes, declare That poverty is part of you, And beauty ...
ah, christ, what a CREW: more poetry, always more P O E T R Y . if it doesn't come, ...
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