Sunday, August 21, 2016

Self-control ... A Hero

Self-control ...  A Hero

by Seah Greenhorn
( Poem with copyright ) 



As a Red kite aspires to fly higher still
his wings tilted upwards
life requires us to acquire patience skills:

“For everything there is an appointed time...,
a time to keep and a time to throw away”

too many marbles rolling to the edges

frays a soul; kills merriness of mind,
love, objectivity and desires to portray

sincerely kind.

Also, time has hands, yet, not to hold back its pace.
So too anxiety cannot it control. By vision,

a night owl into twilight sent,

we garbage not organizational value; preparation keeps our focus;
gates disastrous actions from thieving precious moments
in prisons and hospitals spent. Yes, to maintain inner equilibrium,
keep impatience tamed.

Wisdom exercised bars life's unexpected actors from appearing
uninvited onto our stage, behaving erratically to erupt in us rage.
Since patient calm cultivated as fruitage supreme,
makes self-control a hero; and us a spiritual-being.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Joyed by Rain

Joyed by Rain

by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)



My inwards mellow when I think of rain.
Its pitter patter to stay one sane.
Water that thunders down upon a unshaded window pane.
This wondrous weather I love seated or simply laying;

Out, chapbooks and coffee to enjoy the day
and gentle sound. It truly allays
the rush and hurry of hectic delays and traffic stays.
Yes, I do delight and gratefully pray while precipitation stresses slay

mercifully, daily anxiety as I meditate as pings repeat.
The swish of wheels and squish of feet
along the rim of shadowy streets
'til neath my covers it peaks me to sweet and delicious needed sleep

to doze ten thousand rems.
Yet still in all my happy dreams refuse to dim
as I think on glorious cycles from ancient streams
vaporized and circled again to cloud the skies from heavenly beams

that rainbows beautifully after the sun's return
to lift again the mist and spurn
a drought that would our soil do burn
if not for lovely storms as blessings to man which never he earned.

My inwards mellow when I think of rain.
Its pitter patter to stay one sane.
Water that thunders down upon a unshaded window pane.
This wondrous weather I love seated or simply laying.

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

My Blue Prayer

My Blue Prayer

by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)




Blue

I felt through endless days
of sunny skies.

Smiles hid not
the constant strain of suppressing
mild/increasing pain

of heart.

The darkness deep inside
did impart

evenings endless of sadistic art.
Gloriously tragic to expound.
But not to live.

The canvas splayed with muted hues
of anguish

due to life's choices.

I sat imbued with memories
washed with tears anew.

The frequent bouts
I wished were few and far between
as sprinklings of dew

to refresh

not to enmesh with substance like suet
for stewing in guilt and roasting in slow and twisted turns.

I did not earn this spot as gilt
to burn

spit-roasting
for others to discern:
the consequences of my
varied errors.

Lessons to ignite the young to learn.

Wish I might the heat to end!

A friend to lend a sincere ear
and bend to extend a helpful hand.

This I thought;
then heard a knock.

Standing there in awkward shock
I saw a little girl.

She held a box of color blue.

Inside she said:
"A gift for you!

I hope you like the book.
It gives me hope."

This girl of three or maybe two?

"A future bright and endless,"
said her mother.

"The Bible
is really worth

a careful
view."

Was this the answer to my non-existent prayer?

Were they sent to me to share?

That night I sat upon my chair
astonished that someone seemed to care enough
to come my way

through a drizzling cold rain.

Thus I began
my search for

You.

I appreciate your love.

I sincerely do!







Thursday, July 28, 2016

These Precious Things

These Precious Ones

by Seah Greenhorn
( Poem with copyright )




In the Final Days
heard

a glorious sound,

delightful words,
the buzz of joy and laughter found

as it rattles the nations;

yes,

fallen
golden leaves to ground
in unified worship

truth-seekers
from all stations of life.

From war-torn areas and desert sands;
from violent backgrounds and stealthy hands;
from every action despised;
from even all despicable vices;
from once lovers of hatred and strife.

What a beauty to behold
when sees the Maker a loving soul
though, bruised and bleeding
they're lifted up

cleaned and polished
they bubble forth

now in happiness their delight erupts,
since hope indeed gratefully fills their cup.

The noise of news good
vibrated and shook the foundations.
Streaming to the base of the mountain
foreigners from all denominations.

As the river proceeds to rush
exhilarated and exhibiting a rosy blush
many cry, their eyes abeam by a light they saw

their hearts enlarged by a vision scene:

A perfected mankind
eternally
inhabiting the earth.

Peace restored; justice reigns!
Secured a future free of pain.

Not reincarnated, nor recycled
but resurrected to the land
forefathers, grandparents,
children who lost all breath before they ran.

Yes, reconnected
Heaven and earth

according to God's
Original Plan!

Give Ear You Precious and Desirable Things!
For the Future Is Grand!

Grab your musical instruments
your lovely strings

and You
His Majesty's

Praises Sing!

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Hark! then Heed

Hark! then Heed

by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)




Gather

All

you lovers of peace
of justice

of a long
delicious
life.

Hear tell
of a

Glorious Future,

eliminated

from our marvelous
home/land:
vice and anger.

Yes!
Vicious strife.

Hark,
then Heed

to words
a ringing

throughout the earth

like past dinging's
of famous
Liberty Bells
which sadly cracked
when burned in fire;

or were removed
before they fell.

Crystal clear
the sound

as pristine waters dripping gently

moistening tongues parched;
soothing throats dry

aching

hoarse
since,

mourning came so suddenly

through intense darkness;
through horrid piercings;
through worldwide tragedies

creating
crippling fear.

Yes!

Hark,
then Heed
to what it means:

A Name

so wondrous
Do Proclaim!

Promises
actions of salvation
to righteous people

of all the nations

He
them
Does

lovingly
claim.

Jehovah--

“He Causes to Become”

Whatever
is needed

He demonstrated

through a nation
once noted as a threat

to enemies
decrying

Jah's Fame.

Now
extended
an invitation

to freely partake

of

'Truth.'

The
Almighty

Granting

an opportunity for endless life
to all now living.

Our lives unjustly
in jeopardy.

Daily at stake.

He's our Creator
of our physical universe
and intelligent beings

even here on earth.

He's the Fulfiller
of his purpose.

His Will right here
is to be done.

Satan, will not thwart his actions
or eternally render

God's work
undone.

As God said to faithful Moses:

“I am to be remembered
from generation to generation."

"‘I Will Become What I Choose to Become’"

His Vindication
of his Sovereignty

is the major
total sum

of Christ Jesus's
reigning splendor.

Come
All Ye!

Watch and See!

Hark, then Heed!
Follow the lead

of the thumping drum!

"For just as the rain and the snow
pour down from heaven and do not return there
until they saturate the earth, making it produce and sprout,

Giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
So my word that goes out of my mouth

will be.

It will not return to me
without results,

But it will certainly accomplish
whatever is my delight,

And it will have sure success
in what I send it to do."

This is God's Promise:

"Find exquisite delight
in Jehovah,

And he will grant you the desires of your heart."

He is a God of Purpose
with total ability
backed by

awesome

strength and might!

"King of eternity,
incorruptible, invisible,

the only God,

Be honor and glory
forever and ever.

Amen."

Yes,
extended
an invitation

For All to Come!
And Him Befriend.

Exodus 3:15; Psalm 37:4; Isaiah 55:10,11; Zech. 1:6; Joshua 23:14; 1 Tim. 1:17;

For your sakes I will send to Babylon and bring down all the bars of the gates.—Isa. 43:14.

In line with that prophecy, a world-shaking event happened one night early in October 539 B.C.E. While Babylon’s king and his nobles were drinking wine from holy vessels captured from Jerusalem’s temple and were praising their man-made gods, the armies of Media and Persia conquered Babylon. In 538 or 537 B.C.E., Babylon’s conqueror, Cyrus, commanded the Jews to return and rebuild God’s temple in Jerusalem. All of this was foretold by Isaiah, including Jehovah’s promise that he would provide for and protect his repentant people as they returned to Jerusalem. God called them “the people whom I formed for myself so that they mig ht declare my praise.” (Isa. 43:21; 44:26-28) Once these former exiles had returned and rebuilt Jehovah’s temple in Jerusalem, they became witnesses to the fact that Jehovah, the only true God, always fulfills his word. w14 7/15 3:10, 11

*Picture credit:  Largest bell that is still in existence is #Tsar Bell, currently on display in Moscow, Russia. It is third in the line of Tsar Bells, weighing 180 tons. It was forged in 1737, but the major fire at the location of its founding caused it to crack. Its predecessors were both lost to fire, 18 ton bell from late 16th century and 100 ton bell from mid-17th century.








https://allpoetry.com/poem/12779857-Hark---then--Heed--by-Seah-Greenhorn

Thursday, July 7, 2016

When Tomorrow Comes

When Tomorrow Comes!

by Lucretia Mccloud aka Seah Greenhorn (poem with copyright)
When
ultimately

tomorrow arrives

soon,
in the best time,

although,
we twist
turn

in ernest concern
wallowing now
in deep sorrow,

no longer will anxious cries
consume precious
hearts and minds.

Who will deny

we will wish for
no more
tomorrows.

For today's desires
of tomorrows

exist in daily
shared prayers
as we say:

"Please relieve us
of our sufferings!"

sickness
death
pain
loneliness
stress
finances

plain unhappiness.

Yes,
when that day
shines

after

His will's done,
here,

Then

everyday
we'll rise

no more to despise

life.

Gratitude
imbued;

never
to again spew
as children do:

"Tomorrow never comes!"

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Silence...Not Always Golden

Silence...Not Always Golden

by Seah Greenhorn
( Poem with copyright ) 

Traversing this world of extremes
tricky is the tight walk of neutral. So a love of righteous...you know I mean?

On your left, anything goes. Just close your eyes and hold your nose.

'What was that?'

'Don't even ask. Just lie back and let us take you for a ride to tickle your toes.'

'Who's us?'

'We won't discuss.'

So, one questioning is made to feel green.

This scene depicts the plight of the naive or fears of peers bullied by mean.

So I need to ask myself:

Do I desire
to spark lust into a fire
to consume me whole?

Where will this leave me?

Shallow, then hollow as I grow old
and my beauty fades?

Will I reside in the shadows
scratching my itch with two fingers and my eye in a twitch?

Then lonely and non bewailed,
since as the dog
constantly chasing his tail,

before hastily lain in a rapidly dug grave?


I saved this tragic ending
to inspire me
to always try to see the end of the road,
before I step boldly
where I was admonished:

"Do not go!"

Independence and freedoms
I do choose, like fashion and hair color.

But foolishness is costly. And life is a commodity one should not abuse.

So to love righteousness, because of my love for the Creator is simply my choice.

He is Holy
and has set the standard.

And He has given
each of us
their own voice.

Use it wisely.

Speak up
for yourself.

There is a time for silence.

Just not when you need to defend your principles. Don't leave them home gathering dust on the shelf.



Tuesday, May 31, 2016

To Do or Not To Do?

To Do or Not To Do?

by Seah Greenhorn
( Poem with copyright ) 



To Do or Not To Do?

That is the question
similar to Hamlet's debate

of suicide

through Shakespeare's work,
did famous make.

Today,
marriage
is not often
the recommended suggestion.

Thus,
this institution's demise
is sadly at stake.

Whether a shack-up or a shackle
is 'nobler in the mind'
is a quandary causing sincere romantics
to hesitate. Decline.

Those who consider,
thought simply blind
to reality.

Single,
the preferable commodity.

To take this stage as bride and groom
may beset the union

'to grunt and sweat under a weary life.'

Committed

one to a prison's dense and eternal
gloom.

'And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.–Soft you now!'

Coward!

Yes,
thus a vast
mast do choose:

bow out,
so as not to lose

sanity.

A total mistake

to engage
in this holy arrangement

by a
Loving Creator
for Humanity.

A Wonderful Gift
to the

Perfect First
then Eternal Family?

Yes.

For this

HE
thus it did

Originate.

Sunday, May 29, 2016

'Apples to Apples'

'Apples to Apples'
 

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)

'As apples to apples'
made

this simple comparison.

Yet,
difficult to impossible
for one
to make the final grade

as exist

7500 varieties 
from a generosity of His hand
to every child, woman and man.

Such a multitude of tiny seeds
to grow and expand into flowered trees.

Such deep appreciation
we need

for apples grand and delicious

worldwide
across international lands.

Red and gold
yellow and green
size of a cherry or grapefruit seen

Of sun and rain.
In sheer magnificence

Squeal
children in delight
bobbing their heads
in playful innocence.

Blessed
Mankind.

Yes we are!
Individually valued.

Useful
in far too many means
to really comprehend.

With sauces,
pies, fitters

and so much more

Eternity
is necessary
for us to employ

this creation
with it's sweet juices.

So 'apples to apples'
that well-known phrase
needs to be

replaced

Since comparisons
Do
others shade.

Monday, May 23, 2016

Forester

Forester

by Seah Greenhorn
( Poem with copyright ) 
Maybe a third
exquisitely clothes our land
in luxurious hues
of greens, reds, oranges
under blues
donned in vines or moss
by Designer
who's at ease in brilliant creativity.

Rays of beamed sun
streamed between dwarfed
stunted or towering trees
rustling ferns, oaks, or willows
weeping in the breeze.

Sustained
by their presence

I understand
believe now
after a tragic stint
in naivety.

You see,
in the distance I saw:

A loveliness to a majestic degree.
A vision rich in beauty,

Magnificent
to national multitudes 
all in awe
need vehemently to agree;

since the earth abounds
in treasured leafy varieties.

Dashing into the dense essence
of one of these
a kitten prancing
in youthful exuberance

innocent and unprepared
in tragedy to sadly share.

I plead for forgiveness.
I pray for redemption
in my spread of wicked seeds.

The sun hung high.
The shade appealed.
My company pleasant.
Echoed, delightful squeals.

Hide and seek
along the fringe
is how the misery
begins.

In this deciduous forest,
where in fall
is bled millions of leaves
creating
a slippery floor

where insects, fungi, worms, and other organisms ultimately convert all
into an organic stew

humus, a ingredient vital of fertile soil.

No, nothing is wasted. All valued as pearls,
as these silent workers toil
preparing the dirt for wondrous
new growth to maintain
little children all over the world.

Beneath the dead, the soil teems with life.
We laughed and giggled too joyful for strife.

Yet, in dusk we played
unaware of the rife
of ignorance
children often display.

Searched we in fun for flowers
fleet in feet on a carefree run.
Passion berry and blue lily
scattered among our playground field.

A day forever
in memory done.

Mourning warblers, little songsters adorned
in dramatic grays, yellows, and olives
should've warned two little impish tykes
that amid the mystery reality bites
with reptiles, birds, insects, mammals
through hibernation needing survival too.

As my guardians in slumber stayed
I dared my little brother to slay the dragon
where he lay
inside a dark and lonely cave.

It was to be his final day.

*

Songs still break solemn silence
of deep forests in misleading revelry.

Yet, no longer do song sparrows greet me in cheerful repertoire as sorrow grips me in eternal grief, and while parents view me with understood enmity.


Friday, May 20, 2016

Fallen

Fallen

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)


Untimely
the falls
caused
to all,

normal like average
or peabody small

afraid or nervous
in company of tall

superpowered
strong, mean
hybrid bullies.

Nephilims called.

From men and angels
unnaturally birthed.

They pummeled or killed
incited by anger from within
or mere pleasure.

Not valued your worth.

No stop to their pursuits
or determined will
backed up by pure evil
and muscled girth.

Cowered and fearful
in anxiety many'd flee
the trampling promised.

When would they be free
to carry on peaceful
with work without strife?

Unfortunately never,

since humans did not choose
to find divine protection.

In floods they did lose
their precious life.

Lives
of friends
families too

right along with the 'Fellers'--
the abusers and the abused

since cowardly
and frightened
to utterly refuse

to face off the giants.

Enter the ark

courageous and thankful
for Salvation the Creator imparts

with sincere Love for humanity
He cherishes. It never to depart.

Fully prepared
a well-stocked boat
the earth then to cruise.

Bobble with no moats.

But sadly, only eight survived.
No more any
to harass or gloat.

To the majority
peer pressure or outright obstinacy
proved more potent

than desire
to stand out as different.

Make plans. Do aspire
to enter a door

composed of faith
in the invisible One,
who hires

as Noah to proclaim

His Kingship and Sovereignty.

Death to the coward and/or wicked,
though opportunity existed

many actually did
swallow their pride.

As the vessel floated
capably fashioned,
though regrettably

not totally

Used,
although offered--a ride

as fear and lack of love
combined
produces a catalyst

Satan concocts
to bind and confuse
those not focused whole souled

in heart, soul and mind.

Seeking the "Truth' not to misuse.

Saturday, May 14, 2016

A Healing Promised

A Healing Promised

by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)





Wounds

wickedly delivered
intentionally or otherwise
bleed/bled

Blaze

as fiery tears;
tear in shreds united hearts;

roll us in mire
wishing to expire

till extended
a hand, arm, shoulder.

To sit:

a solid boulder
to support us
as soft words curve over us

silken cloth
sweet

gently enfolds us;
encourages us.

Lifts us to unsteady feet.

But fresh air swirls around us;
soothes our boiled skin,

as nature, friends, time
binds our injuries
slowly from within.

Yet, hope heals us faster
as a ship with rising sails.

Glides us pass
the heat
in which tragedies assails.

Buoys us forward
towards a horizon ascending soon.

Our emotions lifting.
Set free.
Like helium in colorful balloons.

Not to pop. Not to stop. 
To keep ascending

our eyes to bright stars
galaxies and faithful moons

given
for us to enjoy.

Our thoughts upward.
We pray; implore.

Prophecies foretold,
as a mother, strokes
our tired weary bruised souls.

Promises to mend
end sorrow,

sickness, death.

These written
like buried treasures unearthed
we cherish and cry:

"Come quickly! Do not to delay!"

Families desire this to behold.
Since, now what's needed
is power

beyond what's normal

till this darkest hour
that's descended
the Light
wars against;

defends

all those groaning.
Those in pain:

Just wait!

The Future

Glorious 
will bring

Peace

causing an end 
to all pain.

The Kingdom
Is the Cure

to Heal Humanity
of Satan's cruelty.

Wipe your eyes.

For
Not Fantasy

But

The Real Life
Is About to Begin.