Pickthorn Manor (Amy Lowell Poem)
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
Study in Whites Wax-white -- Floor, ceiling, walls. Ivory shadows Over the pavement Polished to cream surfaces By constant sweeping. ...
I How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall! How ...
I learnt to write to you in happier days, And every letter was a piece I chipped From off my ...
The wind blew all my wedding-day, And my wedding-night was the night of the high wind; And a stable door ...
for C. G. Macdonald, 1956-2006 Charlie, sunrise is a three-legged mongrel dog, going deaf, already blind in one eye, answering ...
The telephone company calls and asks what the fuss is. Betty from the telephone company, who's not concerned with the ...
No matter how damaged how chipped, imperfect We have a message our story to share how He healed me how ...
I fit the bill one of the imperfect people the lumps of clay on the potter's wheel Broken, chipped misshapen ...
The treasures of Heaven the love of God God alive within us indwelling in our hearts Earthen vessels only flawed ...
Chipped, cracked vessels flawed pitchers of our bodies yet holding the waters the treasures of God's gifts We are to ...
Broken pieces chipped and cracked finding the hands of the potter round them converted, once more into supple clay giving ...
In my praying, asking that I may serve as a blessing an instrument of his favor Filled with his grace, ...
Oh Lord, we tremble, solemn with joy, yet feeling unworthy something about the truth of our earthly nature hearing your ...
The lump of earth my life returning over and over when I stumble, when I fall sinning against God Going ...
molded, transformed our form taking shape the push, the tug, the calling out the urgings of the potter his will, ...
In the potter's hand our lives, our path humble clay, waiting to be molded finding will, purpose outside Cracked and ...
The old, old boards chipped, splintered weathered white fading to gray the flame, the cross the words of our welcome ...
Your grace oh Lord, poured out, a libation for the world shared through a willing vessel not matter that it ...
Placed in clay pots, misshapen, chipped, flawed God's love, his grace, his gifts placed within clay jars, treasure Transforming us, ...
We are called, given our marching orders to leave our lives behind, to go into the world sharing the message ...
Lord, even now, when I am cracked, chipped imperfect, use me as I am, to do your work, here in ...
Mold me, Lord. Pick me back up, when I am chipped, cracked, broken into pieces, when my glaze fades, when ...
He may have done it, almost unconsciously, a natural gesture, an instinctive act I just happened to be there, in ...
The potter shapes the clay each one a precious creature unique and set apart known from before forming from within ...
The paddle and I Out in the middle of The churning lake. The wind pushed the bow Turning me around. ...
The priest never used blueprints, but worked all the many designs out of his head. Father Wilerus, transplanted Alsatian, built ...
How this woman came by the courage, how she got the courage, Henry bemused himself in a frantic hot night ...
1 It once might have been, once only: 2 We lodged in a street together, 3 You, a sparrow on ...
from an officer's diary during the last war I The sour daylight cracks through my sleep-caked lids. "Stephan! Stephan!" The ...
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