Innocent Blood (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
That troubled land, torn and split knowing war, strife, too long Escape through there, to a land once of oppression, ...
That troubled land, torn and split knowing war, strife, too long Escape through there, to a land once of oppression, ...
Joining Mary, her song sung to God, for all generations - blessings we share, each of us with her, all ...
Washed, redeemed shimmering white, while his blood, red, poured out for you and for me saints who have gone before, ...
By their words, of memory, of love they shared a bit of her life's story But in their dance, varied ...
How blessed to believe in the unseen, the unproven knowing, somewhere deep within the true, unrevealed but indwelling articles of ...
And so was the transference, the owning the claiming of the death of the innocent passed from the denial of ...
By the fire, crackling sparks, living flame, licked the wood dancing before the starlight before the pine forest, beyond the ...
A different walk now on Turtle Island, her people's name for this land of my ancestors too generations long past; ...
Saints and Strangers share the space under my skin in my blood, my history Pilgrims and adventurers who stayed in ...
Reverend Brown told me some of the stories the history of these hallowed grounds Where generations pitched their tents around ...
He reads my latest attempt at a poem and is silent for a long time, until it feels like that ...
Over and over, like a Tune -- The Recollection plays -- Drums off the Phantom Battlements Cornets of Paradise -- ...
A little overflowing word That any, hearing, had inferred For Ardor or for Tears, Though Generations pass away, Traditions ripen ...
My beloved called to me to come and see Steve's tears, he was crying on TV; Steve Irwin, The Crocodile ...
It's Wednesday, September 6th and a birthday, again, these things arrive tediously on time with wry regularity - and sadly, ...
...Preamble A rough draft for an ars poetica . . . . . . . Let's get our dreams unstuck ...
Doors were left open in heaven again: drafts wheeze, clouds wrap their ripped pages around roofs and trees. Like wet ...
Oh destiny of Borges to have sailed across the diverse seas of the world or across that single and solitary ...
WHERE'ER he be, on water or on land, Under pale suns or climes that flames enfold; One of Christ's own, ...
I. The morn when first it thunders in March, The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say: As ...
I. Said Abner, ``At last thou art come! Ere I tell, ere thou speak, ``Kiss my cheek, wish me well!'' ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories