The Rhythm Changer
Moving about my day
to my own beat and to time
my hands to work I may
to keep the rhythm of my rhyme.
Day to day its kept
my heart was beating fine
‘til in my life you stepped
I saw my world was never mine.
Now I dance about my day
twirling to a tune
with lyrics I can’t say
but smell sweet like a perfume.
Moving about my day
to your beat and to your time
hands work is Kingdom play
face set, my heart sublime.
“RhythmChanger” is a favorite poem of mine by Sarah Faith. You’ll find her with a thought in her head, a Bible in her purse and a song in her heart. She is a woman of struggle and a friend of God.
Read her Blog at SheWithUnveiledFace.com and follow her on Twitter @GoolahGirl! I do!
:: Poem reprinted with permission. Original Post here. ::
Perfect Piles. The Limerick of a Retail Associate
Round Clothes folded square,
Perfect Piles Everywhere.
Customer enters when day is done,
You touch my Piles you will get Stung!
My Tumblr Girl
Soaring Vistas.
Tiny Treasures.
A Braid of Hair.
The Innocent Heart.
Placed within a dusky blue frame
only by a scroll bar tamed
(“tamed” is slightly.)
My eye does see
inspiration lightly.
Before the end of week:
Girl in Green dress
washing restaurant hands.
“Where’s your forest breeze?”
I ask, her beauty I do see.
We long for models’ life of ease
yet in contentment, our soul’s appeased.
A moment to breathe
and so we become
the model ourself
yet we are undone.
A picture “self-admired”
is “over-aware” I know;
Only looking outward
do we radiate our glow.
For a mountain was made to look at.
Self-preen, that it does not.
So live your life in contentment
And enjoy the “Forget-me-nots.”
Tumblr changed the way I look at the world. I see so many beautiful girls who don’t know it, it breaks my heart. This poem is for you. <3
The Richest Pauper
I’m looking for my Pauper
in a dark and dreary land.
He has no place to rest,
His feet covered in sand.
He’s nothing for himself
but everything to give,
He didn’t come to condemn
He counts sins in a sieve.
He owns the whole world
but He hasn’t a bed;
No title or position
but they want Him dead.
If Caesar was before Him
He would not be impressed,
It was Caesar’s birth
that He Himself blessed.
___
It may seem as if
they made Him to die,
Yet it was His own choice
He let them crucify.
Beaten, Battered, Bloodied.
Thrashed, Smashed, & Ripped.
Then He crawled up a hill
of His very own will,
Laid His arm on a beam
and put breath in the soul
that tried to nail God
to an earthen, wooden will.
___
All cursed be
those who hang on a tree,
True Love and Sacrifice
He allowed us to see.
For the Mayans, Aztecs,
and Incas all knew:
Only atonement with
Human Blood would do.
But there’s no heart so pure
among our dirty race
that can appease a Holy God
for our sins disgrace.
…
I can’t speak for you
but I know I suck,
If it weren’t for my Friend Jesus,
We’d all be out of luck.
___
I’m looking for my Pauper
He’s the richest man I know,
for He’s the only one
who has redeemed my soul.
Psychedelic Sky
Dark and yet bright
the oceanhood sky
heavy cargo tanker, white
skiff passes by.
Windy and peaceful
the waves trickle on
while rain pours down heavy
way farther yon.
White, grey and blue
to dark gray and navy,
the suncatchers
do not me this day envy.
Salt brushes my nose
and yet does it rest:
the hanging rope fence
around wilderness.
Great big ole cruiser!
off to the right.
Why would I want
to travel so trite?
I’d rather lose my way
off the beaten path
rustle up adventure,
ride the aftermath.
Give me my freedom,
don’t tie me down.
I wish to find
the pelican’s sound.
