Don't forget what time it is
when it's late at night,
and you seek selfish satisfaction
in the wrong places.
Don't forget what time it is,
and let careless pleasures
that do not build your life,
rob you of your days to come.
Don't forget what time it is,
and cause offence and trouble
in others lives so they
waste their days in bitterness.
Don't forget what time it is,
and let the enemy
rob you of your potential,
leaving you ashamed and broken.
Don't forget what time it is.
You have a destiny in God
that only you can fulfill
on the whole earth.
Don't forget what time it is,
that those around you are not told
the eternal destination changing
good news you already know.
Don't forget what time it is,
for we are appointed to live once
and then comes the judgement.
Don't forget what time it is.
Saturday, 25 February 2017
Saturday, 18 February 2017
The Lane Continued
A full twelve months has passed
since we saw each other.
My black laced boots
rhythmically crush the deep white powder.
Ancient apple boughs
with winter burden bowed,
glimpse through icicle hung hedges.
This snowy lane is steeped
in memory.
We first kissed here,
and made private promises,
that did not withstand
his families different plans.
A purposeful heavy tread,
magnified in the sparkling air,
draws closer.
I dare not look behind,
until strong hands
hold my shoulders,
and turn me towards
his enveloping embrace.
Words still unnecessary
as our eyes express
everything.
Hearts press together,
separated only
by heavy winter clothes,
and propriety.
Visible frosted breath
meets moments before our lips.
Our souls reconnected
and clinging closely in delight.
Covenant words of commitment
will soon be spoken
in others hearing
in ancient chapel.
But as for now
we are blissfully
alone in this lane,
and his words of love
are simply
whispered to me.
since we saw each other.
My black laced boots
rhythmically crush the deep white powder.
Ancient apple boughs
with winter burden bowed,
glimpse through icicle hung hedges.
This snowy lane is steeped
in memory.
We first kissed here,
and made private promises,
that did not withstand
his families different plans.
A purposeful heavy tread,
magnified in the sparkling air,
draws closer.
I dare not look behind,
until strong hands
hold my shoulders,
and turn me towards
his enveloping embrace.
Words still unnecessary
as our eyes express
everything.
Hearts press together,
separated only
by heavy winter clothes,
and propriety.
Visible frosted breath
meets moments before our lips.
Our souls reconnected
and clinging closely in delight.
Covenant words of commitment
will soon be spoken
in others hearing
in ancient chapel.
But as for now
we are blissfully
alone in this lane,
and his words of love
are simply
whispered to me.
Saturday, 11 February 2017
The Lane
I saw you again
in the snow lined lane,
hedges thick with frost on ice,
bending boughs
cracking in the thin air.
I remember a time
when we were not
yet strangers.
We laughed at the same jokes,
and looked at each other
for signs of encouragement.
The awkward hug you gave me
did not convey
what you intended,
or what I wanted,
but it was the first time
we had touched for years.
Then there was that
fragile faltering farewell,
thick with
wanting to be spoken words,
that fell silently to the ground.
I found myself
waiting for something more,
wanting something more
from you,
than this unsatisfactory brief exchange.
We used to be so close
as souls that see
each other through
a sea of others.
I've walked the same lane since,
hoping a second sighting
would stir a different response.
But now Spring
has long since gone,
it seems you have retreated
to your so different world,
leaving me alone in mine.
in the snow lined lane,
hedges thick with frost on ice,
bending boughs
cracking in the thin air.
I remember a time
when we were not
yet strangers.
We laughed at the same jokes,
and looked at each other
for signs of encouragement.
The awkward hug you gave me
did not convey
what you intended,
or what I wanted,
but it was the first time
we had touched for years.
Then there was that
fragile faltering farewell,
thick with
wanting to be spoken words,
that fell silently to the ground.
I found myself
waiting for something more,
wanting something more
from you,
than this unsatisfactory brief exchange.
We used to be so close
as souls that see
each other through
a sea of others.
I've walked the same lane since,
hoping a second sighting
would stir a different response.
But now Spring
has long since gone,
it seems you have retreated
to your so different world,
leaving me alone in mine.
Wednesday, 8 February 2017
Word Received 8.2.2017
Do not be only hearers of the Word but be doers also.
Manifest My Kingdom on earth by doing the works of My
Kingdom.
Don’t just talk about it. Do it.
Heal the sick in My Name and do not doubt.
Cast out spirits and do not fear.
Use the authority I have given you to defeat the powers of
darkness
in people’s lives and in places that would keep people in
captivity.
Do not be conformed to this present age but transform it
by the power of My Spirit, says the Lord.
Saturday, 4 February 2017
Failure
We do not like to fail
and yet we do.
All of us to a degree,
some more honest about it
than others.
Some find the failure
attracts their continued attention,
others dig deep burial pits
to hide their failures in.
It is a common past time for mankind.
We fail often
and sometimes seem stubborn
to learn from the simplest of lessons,
returning anew
to the place of our failure,
with a winsome wish
that this time it will be different.
Of course it is not
and failure becomes our friend,
the only one
we can truly rely on
to turn up,
as we try to forge forward.
Failure seems to choose us
as if we had won
some sick life lottery,
that is stacked against to us to ever succeed.
A history of failure
becomes a future of failure,
as night follows day,
although the days are very short
and the nights unreasonably long.
Does this pitiful pattern have to persist
or can we somehow be free?
There is One who is faithful to
forgive me of all my failures
and show me a different way.
If only I can agree to receive
this forgiveness,
extend it to others,
and learn to forgive
myself
when I fail.
and yet we do.
All of us to a degree,
some more honest about it
than others.
Some find the failure
attracts their continued attention,
others dig deep burial pits
to hide their failures in.
It is a common past time for mankind.
We fail often
and sometimes seem stubborn
to learn from the simplest of lessons,
returning anew
to the place of our failure,
with a winsome wish
that this time it will be different.
Of course it is not
and failure becomes our friend,
the only one
we can truly rely on
to turn up,
as we try to forge forward.
Failure seems to choose us
as if we had won
some sick life lottery,
that is stacked against to us to ever succeed.
A history of failure
becomes a future of failure,
as night follows day,
although the days are very short
and the nights unreasonably long.
Does this pitiful pattern have to persist
or can we somehow be free?
There is One who is faithful to
forgive me of all my failures
and show me a different way.
If only I can agree to receive
this forgiveness,
extend it to others,
and learn to forgive
myself
when I fail.
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