The Poetry Tree

There is an art to writing poetry. And we are blessed to have Treepers here who are able to master this art…and share it with us.

Their Work shines out and illuminates our Tree. Their reflections touch our hearts and give us food for thought.

This thread is a place for us to collect their Work and revisit it again. A place to curate and display these poetic works so that we can find them easily.

Just like a tiny acorn that, once planted, can grow into a mighty tree…the thoughts that our talented Poets share with us, give us inspiration to grow and fortify us going  forward.

CelticTree

I would ask that when you post a Poem that has been posted, to please include a link to the post where it appeared. That way we can take a peek at where it appeared when the Poet originally posted it.

In case you are unfamiliar with how to do this…you simply cursor over the Time Stamp underneath the poster’s name, then right-click on it and click on ‘Copy link’. Then paste it into your comment here, by right-clicking on where you want to put it…and click on ‘Paste’.

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There are other classic poetic works that are eerily relevant to our current Time. Please feel free to post those as well, if you like.

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94 thoughts on “The Poetry Tree

  1. This is a recent post from our Bakocarl, which has one of his beautiful Poems within it:

    …………………………

    May 23, 2019 at 01:05

    Many, many people that we meet live their lives unnoticed and unrecognized by us, living in the background quietly and meekly but, in the aggregate, doing far more of the Lord’s work than those who are standing up in front to be recognized.

    The Little Sparrow

    I’m like a little sparrow
    As I flit along my way;
    Both unseen and unnoticed
    During each and every day.

    Life is full of little things
    And I guess that I’m just one,
    Helping others when I can
    Until each day is done.

    I’m happy to let others
    Be in front and take the lead.
    I don’t want recognition
    As I do my little deeds.

    Each day I walk along my path
    But not to be seen by men.
    Seeing someone else’s smile
    Makes me smile, time and again.

    God saved me only by His grace
    And started my life anew:
    Made in Christ to do good works
    That God prepared for me to do.

    God’s eye is on the sparrow,
    So I know He watches me,
    And I’m content to serve the One
    Who died to set me free.

    For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
    …………………….

    This is where it appeared:

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/05/23/dear-maga-20190523-open-topic/comment-page-1/#comment-155115

    Liked by 17 people

    1. How fortunate are we that this melodious little sparrow has has constructed his nest in Wolf’s Q Tree?

      Very fortunate indeed. Such beautiful sounds emanating from that particular branch…

      Thank you, Bakocarl, for sharing your exquisite words of wisdom.

      Liked by 8 people

  2. This is another one of Bakocarl’s wonderful poems.
    He posted this when he first found our Q-Tree:

    ………………………..

    May 8, 2019 at 14:36

    As I walked down today’s path in the wood,
    Planning to perch on my branch in the tree,
    I spied a new, smaller path as I stood
    And, looking onward as far as I could,
    Tried to see if this new path suited me.

    Where I was going, I’d perched there for years;
    A tree, grown large, both well rooted and true,
    Full of birds singing songs, but now, less clear,
    And the sun, once bright, dimmed by clouds and drear.
    I knew at this moment what I must do.

    I turned to the right and took this new way,
    The light seemed brighter and the way was clear.
    Ahead, a clearing, bathed in the sun’s rays
    And a small, green tree, some birds in array,
    Singing songs of freedom, hope and good cheer.

    As I approached, I saw more birds perched there,
    And a small, sharp shovel leaning nearby.
    Just then, I knew, this tree, tended with care,
    Might have a little perch for me, somewhere,
    To settle myself in and occupy.

    I saw that I knew many birds perched here.
    Old friends from before, but now seldom found;
    Old friends with whom I share common ground,
    Old friends who I know are good and sincere.

    Amwick, GA/FL, and LadyP,
    Pat, PRising, Sylvia, Covfefe,
    Daughn, Gil, Gail, Marica and Mousey,
    Curry, NEFilly and, of course, PHC,
    And wolfmoon, yes, wolfie, tending the tree.

    I’ll try to be nice and I won’t throw food,
    ‘Cause Wheatie’s made rules, so that we play fair.
    I’ll be sure that I’m not crude, rude or lewd,
    But will write poems, when I’m in the mood,
    And bask in the light and breathe the fresh air.

    …………………………..

    This is where it appeared:

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/05/08/dear-maga-20190508-open-topic/comment-page-2/#comment-144009

    Liked by 19 people

  3. This is from our Commander Wolf.

    He’s been holding out on us…I didn’t know he was a poet too.
    Heheh. 😃😁

    …………………….

    May 23, 2019 at 02:59

    Hillary Billary hit the Trump Wall
    Hillary Billary took a great fall
    All the king’s whores and all the king’s Mensas
    Couldn’t come to Hillary’s legal defenses.

    ………………………..

    Here is where it appeared:

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/05/23/dear-maga-20190523-open-topic/#comment-155162

    Liked by 18 people

  4. Another from our Bakocarl:

    ……………………..

    May 22, 2019 at 04:57

    Wayfaring Strangers

    Life’s highway is a rocky path,
    Covered in mud and strewn with holes,
    With many traps along the way
    To lure and snare our weary souls.

    We’re all poor, wayfaring strangers,
    Trudging through life’s troubled ways.
    Dark clouds gather all around us,
    Destructive storms to mark our days.

    In life no matter what we do,
    We can’t succeed on our own deeds.
    We won’t find our way to heaven
    Until our sinful soul is freed.

    We don’t have the goodness in us
    To overcome sin’s evil grip.
    In life’s uncharted raging seas,
    We live aboard a sinking ship.

    All’s not lost, we have a Savior,
    Navigator, Pilot and Friend,
    Who gave His life just to save us,
    To win our victory in the end.

    Though we walk along our pathways,
    Plodding and weary in ragged clothes,
    We give our trust to our Savior,
    Believing that He died and rose.

    On that day when our path’s end nears,
    Our time runs out, our days are gone,
    We’ll look up to see His glory
    And His face in eternity’s dawn.

    ………………………

    Here is where it appeared:

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/05/22/dear-maga-20190522-open-topic/comment-page-1/#comment-154424

    Liked by 12 people

  5. I saved this prayer poem that BakoCarl posted September 3, 2017 at 1:27 pm

    Thy Will Be Done

    The winds shriek and howl and the waters churn,
    But we don’t listen. Will we ever learn?
    This wicked world seeks wealth, fame and power,
    But God owns this day, and this is His hour.

    Our Father in Heaven, we turn to You,
    For only You know just what to do.
    Only You are our Father who cares,
    And we come to You, humbly, with our prayers.

    We pray for the safety of those in harm’s way,
    Hold them in Your hands all through these days.
    We pray for the peace of those who now fear,
    Hold them in Your arms. Let them know You’re near.

    We pray for Your blessings on those who give aid,
    Hold them on Your paths, never to stray.
    We pray for Your guidance to those who lead,
    Hold them to Your will and care for their needs.

    We pray for ourselves, to find when we seek,
    That our walk with You be humble and meek.
    We pray for our country, that all turn to You
    For guidance and blessings in all that we do.

    Al though we pray for our safety today,
    We know that Your will is the only Way.
    We know that our sin hinders Your peace,
    But when Your Truth triumphs, then sin will cease.

    And though we are destined for war and strife,
    We look to our future, for You are our Life.
    Safety and peace: it’s for those we plead,
    But when all’s said and done, it’s revival we need.

    May we turn to You for our joy and peace,
    For in our blessed future, they will never cease.
    We’re not of this world, and so we pray
    For Your coming quickly. May this be the day.

    Until that day when You come in the clouds,
    May we turn to You in throngs and crowds;
    But no matter what happens, the things to come,
    We pray above all that Thy will be done.
    Thy Will Be Done

    The winds shriek and howl and the waters churn,
    But we don’t listen. Will we ever learn?
    This wicked world seeks wealth, fame and power,
    But God owns this day, and this is His hour.

    Our Father in Heaven, we turn to You,
    For only You know just what to do.
    Only You are our Father who cares,
    And we come to You, humbly, with our prayers.

    We pray for the safety of those in harm’s way,
    Hold them in Your hands all through these days.
    We pray for the peace of those who now fear,
    Hold them in Your arms. Let them know You’re near.

    We pray for Your blessings on those who give aid,
    Hold them on Your paths, never to stray.
    We pray for Your guidance to those who lead,
    Hold them to Your will and care for their needs.

    We pray for ourselves, to find when we seek,
    That our walk with You be humble and meek.
    We pray for our country, that all turn to You
    For guidance and blessings in all that we do.

    Al though we pray for our safety today,
    We know that Your will is the only Way.
    We know that our sin hinders Your peace,
    But when Your Truth triumphs, then sin will cease.

    And though we are destined for war and strife,
    We look to our future, for You are our Life.
    Safety and peace: it’s for those we plead,
    But when all’s said and done, it’s revival we need.

    May we turn to You for our joy and peace,
    For in our blessed future, they will never cease.
    We’re not of this world, and so we pray
    For Your coming quickly. May this be the day.

    Until that day when You come in the clouds,
    May we turn to You in throngs and crowds;
    But no matter what happens, the things to come,
    We pray above all that Thy will be done.

    Amen

    Link – https://theconservativetreehouse.com/2017/09/03/september-3rd-2017-presidential-politics-trump-administration-day-227/comment-page-3/#comment-4339772

    Liked by 11 people

  6. And another BakoCarl poem from June 13, 2017 at 12:45 pm

    God’s Army and the War

    We look at the world all around us,
    And we see all the evil and say,
    There’s a war between men in this world,
    The good men fight, keeping evil at bay.

    We think there’s a heavy burden on us,
    This fight that may engulf you or me,
    But the struggle is not against flesh and blood,
    Though it’s armies of men that we see.

    This war and the armies are much bigger;
    But men of this world are not the source.
    We fight against powers of this dark world,
    And their evil spiritual force.

    Elisha, God’s prophet, warned Israel’s king
    Of the Arameans plans to attack.
    So Aram’s king sent his army at night,
    Surrounding Elisha. He’d never get back.

    Elisha’s servant rose early that day,
    And saw they were trapped, all hemmed in.
    “I’m afraid, Elisha, what shall we do?”
    Elisha answered, perhaps with a grin:

    Don’t be afraid, was what the prophet said,
    Those with us are much more than that army.
    And Elisha prayed to our and his God,
    “O Lord, open his eyes and let him see!”

    Then the servant looked, looked up and saw
    Hills full of horses, chariots of fire;
    A huge army of angels, sent by God,
    All protecting Elisha and his squire.

    God’s got the power; He’s in control.
    His forces will win in this evil war.
    All will proceed according to His plan,
    With Him, we’ll be victors, and much more.

    What shall we say to all of these things?
    If God is for us, then who can oppose?
    Should we sit back and leave it all to God,
    Trusting in His Son, Who died and arose?

    We run the race and must fight the good fight,
    Strong in the Lord, secure His power.
    We are given the full armor of God
    To take our stand against evil’s hour.

    When evil comes, we’ll wear God’s armor:
    The belt of truth buckled around our waist,
    The breastplate of righteousness all in place,
    Guarded from arrows by the shield of faith.

    With readiness from the gospel of peace,
    Our feet will be fitted and firmly shod.
    All with the helmet of salvation,
    And the Spirit’s sword – the Word of God.

    With God’s armor, we can take our stand,
    And with the strength we get from prayers.
    Final victory is ours, glory to God,
    And eternal rest in His merciful care.

    Link – https://theconservativetreehouse.com/2017/06/13/june-13th-2017-presidential-politics-trump-administration-day-145/comment-page-3/#comment-4027515

    Liked by 9 people

  7. Darn!!! All that work, and I’m NOT in the Daily Open Thread. Grrrrr. Please delete, I’m post it in the Open Thread.

    Like

    1. Are you sure you want it deleted?

      I will wait till you get it reposted over in the Daily Open…and then do it, if you’re sure you don’t mind.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh, yes, for sure. I am so sorry. I opened the wrong thread this morning – sometimes our Daily threads have a kind of title to them, so I took this one as the Daily. 🙂

        Liked by 4 people

  8. From April 4, 2019 at 8:59 pm

    The Art of MAGA

    Well, it’s shoulda, woulda, and coulda,
    The self-annointed know-it-alls say.
    PTrump shoulda, woulda and coulda,
    Their favorite tune, sung all day.

    A bit too little, they won’t agree,
    A bit too much and they’ll say nay,
    They claim PTrump broke promises,
    And love to use the word “betray”.

    Listen to them whine, bitch and complain
    After reading some rumor, yet once again,
    Or falling for some tale, put out by trolls,
    Never knowing it’s nothing but spin.

    Trump made his promises, time after time,
    All through the campaign and after he won.
    Anyone with at least half of a brain
    Could clearly see what he’d try to get done.

    But then, when some feel there’s a delay,
    As though they knew better what will befall,
    The Doomers and Gloomers quickly appear
    To make, again, their typical miscall.

    “Trump’s given up. He’s beaten this time”.
    “Trump’s switched over to the other side.”
    “Trump broke his promise, intruders still come.”
    “Trump’s word’s no good. He betrayed us. He lied.”

    Some forget Trump’s the Master of the Deal.
    What he says and does, furthers his ends.
    Give some, get a lot. It’s the way to win.
    Don’t be too stiff; got to learn how to bend.

    Keep your hand close to your vest,
    And never show your cards too soon.
    If your goal is high earth orbit,
    You’ve got to always shoot for the moon.

    It’s all about the negotiation,
    But don’t burn bridges that you can’t mend.
    Bluffing, feinting, misdirection, too –
    But don’t be enemies; win as a friend.

    When it’s all over, deliver the goods;
    Fulfill your promises, every one.
    Then you’ll have a good reputation.
    You’ll be on top, rivaled by none.

    Most blessed we are, to have such a man
    Making America great again.
    Restoring our country, our flag and God,
    To which we can now all say “Amen.”

    Link – https://theconservativetreehouse.com/2019/04/04/april-4th-2019-presidential-politics-trump-administration-day-805/comment-page-4/#comment-6875751

    Liked by 6 people

  9. My apologies, Wheatie. I think you have the power to delete the comment. Was in the wrong thread – didn’t realize it wasn’t the Daily thread! So sorry. 😦 😦

    Liked by 3 people

  10. BakoCarl posted on Election Day – November 8, 2016 at 3:40 pm

    Delicate Snowflake

    I’m a delicate snowflake
    Hear me scream and shout!
    But if you hurt my feelings
    I’ll need my safe place to pout.

    I’ll use threats and violence
    And ‘muscle’ to get my way.
    I have full freedom of speech,
    But you can’t have your say.

    But, oh, the mental anguish,
    I went into a deep shock,
    When I discovered a sign
    That said “MAGA Trump” in chalk.

    It doesn’t matter what you say,
    It’ll be a microagression
    That will require another
    Mental therapy session.

    Our preservation depends
    On liberal funds and grants,
    So we can buy more Kool-Aid
    And sing liberal songs and chants.

    I quake in terrible fear
    Of this election today.
    We’ve got to have Hillary
    Or we’ll become passé.

    If this country elects “T”
    (I can’t say his name again)
    We’ll all look like silly fools
    Much to our bitter chagrin.

    We’ll be forced to pay our way,
    Actually work at a job.
    We’ll be like any other
    Middle or lower class slob.

    No, I’m sure this will not be,
    It’ll never, ever go that far.
    I’ll just live in mommy’s basement
    And drive my rich daddy’s car.

    LINK – https://theconservativetreehouse.com/2016/11/08/november-8th-election-day-2016-presidential-election-open-discussion/comment-page-9/#comment-3211297

    Liked by 7 people

  11. I’m not a poet but would like to add Joyce Kilmer’s Tree poem. Ever since coming here and seeing Wheatie’s wonderful tree pictures, and all of our discussions regarding trees, and God, and now poetry – this one might fit.

    “I think that I shall never see
    A poem lovely as a tree.
    A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
    Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
    A tree that looks at God all day,
    And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
    A tree that may in Summer wear
    A nest of robins in her hair;
    Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
    Who intimately lives with rain.
    Poems are made by fools like me,
    But only God can make a tree.”

    Liked by 9 people

  12. “When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man’s concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses,…”
    – John F. Kennedy

    Liked by 9 people

  13. My poem….

    Let these stubborn cowards stand,
    On the wrong side of right,
    On the shifting sand,
    Of faulty sight,
    And craven greed,
    Someday to cry,
    In sorest need,
    How wrong was I!
    I lived a lie!

    8/31/16

    Dedicated to James Comey, the Bills (Kristol, Gates, Clinton) and the MSM

    Liked by 10 people

      1. I’m not a poet, but do love poetry
        Along with hymns, which are poems, and Scripture, some of which are poetry and song, poetry has been medicine for me through many a heartache.
        I even took a Poetry Therapy class in graduate school, which changed my life in a way that would seem adverse, but took me on a better, healing path.

        Liked by 7 people

  14. Another MAGA poet – Boojum – posted this great poem on Christmas Day 2015

    boojum says:
    December 25, 2015 at 9:38 am
    Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all. As a small present I repost below Trumpvictus with the requisite apologies to William E. Henley

    Trumpvictus

    Out of the night that blights this land
    I cling to hope from poll to poll
    And thank the man who takes his stand
    To Trump the cards elitists hold

    Despite the RINO’s worst attacks
    Despite the wrathful PC crowd
    He tells the truth, destroys the hacks
    His hair unruffled, head unbowed

    Before he rose to show a way
    Our Republic seemed but doomed to die
    But rallied now, we join the fray
    Good patriots, come cast the die

    It matters not, lean right or left
    Those tags were set to cause divide
    Tyranny leaves us all bereft
    Time to choose sweet Freedom’s side

    LINK – https://theconservativetreehouse.com/2015/12/25/december-25th-2016-presidential-election-open-discussion-thread/comment-page-1/#comment-1859888

    Liked by 7 people

  15. RAWHIDES

    Dedicated to President Donald John Trump, Master of All Trollers – MOAT

    (with apologies to Ned Washington and Frankie Laine)

    Trump is trollin’, trollin’
    Keepin’ Dem-dogs rollin’
    Showin’ up their pollin’
    The narrative he’s controllin’

    Raw hides!

    He keeps the Dem-dogs movin’
    Though they’re disapprovin’
    Trump is really groovin’
    And what he tweets gets proven.

    Raw hides!

    He won’t try to understand ‘em
    He’ll throw, rope and brand ’em.
    Herd ’em up in tandem.
    Then their a$$es hand ‘em!

    Raw hides!

    Though they’re calculating
    Trump is far out-rating
    With his gal Melania by his side
    Baiting, waiting, making them bug-eyed,
    Soon he’ll expose them far and wide!

    Raw hides!

    Move ’em on, head ’em up
    Head ’em up, move ’em on
    Move ’em on – show ’em up!

    Rawhides!

    Cut ’em out, ride ’em in
    Ride ’em in, get ’em out
    Vote ’em out – we will win!

    Rawhides!

    Hawrh!

    Cracks whip!

    Liked by 7 people

  16. I promised wolfie I’d put an updated version of a recently posted poem in the new Poetry Tree, which, by the way, is beautiful. Thank you, Wheatie!

    The Q Tree – Beginnings

    Marica May 18, 2019 at 00:46
    Wolfie’s Tree is like the Giving Tree!! Every single person here gives so much of their Heart and Soul!!

    Alison May 18, 2019 at 01:00
    So true, Marica. We are, indeed, blessed by the presence of so many creative patriots here in the QTree.

    Shebythesea May 18, 2019 at 01:53
    Hi Alison, Hi Marica!! Yes, we are blessed. I’m uplifted every time I come here. . . . the great articles/memes/poems/comments I come across here!

    Plantings need passion, a reason to be,
    A need for the fruit from a future tree.
    MAGA is our passion, it’s all we need;
    Free speech is the means by which to proceed.

    A few higher thoughts guide us each day:
    Forgiveness of others, and the need to pray,
    “In God We Trust” (we must learn to depend),
    And “Glory to God” sums up our chief end.

    In the beginning, the site was prepared.
    Our Head Arborist, with utmost care,
    And a small team, conversed and agreed,
    Then all together, they planted the seed.

    A wealth of denizens perch in QTree,
    Working together – a big family.
    Most contribute to spread the word:
    The truth, the facts, now seldom heard.

    A few work the hardest to keep our tree:
    Water and feeding and trimming are key:
    Writing Intros, News Roundups, Threads to read,
    And managing the flock, so we succeed.

    Some are skilled writers, masters with the pen,
    Explaining the complex, beyond our ken.
    Others search the internet, looking to find
    Videos and articles, then expertly mined.

    A few find GIFs or maybe make memes;
    Visual humor for MAGA dreams.
    A handful contribute a rhyme or two,
    Making their points from a different view.

    Still others add their comments to the mix,
    Exposing the Dimm’s dirty politics.
    Many choose to stay behind the scenes,
    Sampling our fare like haute cuisine.

    All contribute, giving in their own way,
    But perhaps, most of all, those who pray.
    When we acknowledge God in all we do,
    He’ll straighten the paths for what ensues.

    So now we see in our tree in the dell,
    That those who come here to perch or dwell,
    Give something of themselves for truth and peace,
    For MAGA and justice, that they never cease.

    We should feel blessed and give thanks for QTree,
    For those that work hard to keep our world free,
    For our leaders for quiet, peaceful lives,
    All to God above, through Whom we thrive.

    Liked by 8 people

  17. I could’t find when I posted this one om The Q Tree . . . 10 May?

    I’ve taken a bit of license here with familiarity, since I am new to The Q Tree. But, since I have known many (most?) of you for years through your posts, I think that the characterization is not far from the mark.

    The Q Tree – Family

    Hurry on to The Q Tree,
    Come on home to family.
    Perch here in the sun and breeze
    And let your mind run free.
    _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

    There’s a place that I just found,
    Full of folks on common ground.
    Love of neighbor, flag and God;
    But not perfect, we’re all flawed.

    Complaint is not the way we roll,
    Nor are there cherries in every bowl.
    Life’s a mixture, good and bad;
    Some days joyful, others sad.

    We seek truth and what is good;
    Not merely could, but what should.
    We get together every day
    To talk, discuss and often pray.

    So if you need a place to perch,
    Here’s where you can end your search.
    We talk about the news du jour
    And other topics more obscure.

    How to make America great,
    How to deal with those who hate,
    How to get that big swamp drained,
    And all about the coup explained.

    And, perhaps, the best of all
    Learn from others and recall
    That your voice, too, is good to hear
    In our friendly atmosphere.

    So pick a branch in our tree,
    Relax and let your mind run free.
    We’ll enjoy the time you spend,
    Chatting with you as our friend.

    Liked by 8 people

  18. I love it, Carl.
    😀😻👍

    And you go right ahead and take all the ‘license with familiarity’ that you want to.
    Even though you may be new to the QTree…you are among old friends.
    😊

    Liked by 6 people

    1. I’m glad you like it, Gil.
      😌😀

      And Wolfie put it in the sidebar, too. 👉
      So that you won’t have to hunt for it later, as the thread moves down in the order of the thread posts.

      Liked by 2 people

  19. God’s Beautiful Children
    All our Lord’s beautiful children are always first rate
    No child of His exists on earth for any of us to berate
    “Damaged Goods” is not a phrase within His sphere
    Every single child He continually holds so very dear
    Did He not give His only begotten Son for all of us?
    So that in His ardent love we would eternally trust
    YOU as a child of our Lord you should truly know
    Thru God’s people His eternal love eternally shows
    As we are born anew due to God’s unselfish love
    By way of Christ His son’s anointing crucified blood

    Author–Me

    Liked by 8 people

  20. Disclaimer: My poems are works in progress, like housework and yard work, they are never finished, could always be improved…or benefit from BakoCarl’s help…so here goes:

    Q Tree stands for QAnon
    And so much more:

    Questions – the product of
    Ancient Socratic irony
    Not MSM’s veiled accusations and smears,
    But, sincerely posed questions
    Answered and not, will pique
    Our interest,
    Stir us from rest,
    Cause us to think and seek,
    and to go on….

    Quests – the product of
    Seeking answers and truth,
    We bring light into darkness,
    Order to confusion,
    An end to chaos, gas-lighting, deception
    We find unity, understanding, inspiration,
    We grow thoughtful, circumspect
    Increase in self-and-other respect.

    Quality – the product of
    Our single and group’s
    Be Best efforts, ideas, even our oops,
    Can raise us above the fray
    Keep us balanced, above and away
    From follies, fails, fools and floops.

    Quiet, the product of
    Peace, love, truth and good will
    These make a harbor, safe and still,
    Away from dissonance, uneasiness and strife
    Where we find an ancient tree,
    A QTree of Life
    And Victory!

    5/23/19
    GA/FL

    Liked by 8 people

  21. Just to make sure people know, it is kosher and properly improper to refer to this Tree by it’s too cute by half name….

    The PoeTree™

    ….or, if one wants to be too cute by full measure…..

    The PoëTree™ or The PoəTree™.

    Other higher orders of too-cuteness are open for debate after the fact, in a subversively conservative way. 😉

    Liked by 5 people

    1. Heheh.
      You know…I actually thought of the same thing!
      😄👍

      Because “Poetry Tree” is like phonetically saying ‘tree’ twice.
      Poet-tree Tree.

      And then, I thought of…Poet-REEEEEE.
      🐸🐸🐸🤣

      Liked by 6 people

  22. Husband is the poet in our house. Here is his version of

    “Trump at Bat”

    The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the GOP team those days;
    the score was agin them, with an election about to play.
    And then when Obama polled so well, and Hillary did the same,
    a sickly trance fell upon the patrons of the GOP game.

    A straggling few quit too discouraged for the quest.
    The rest clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
    If only A Strong One could get but a whack at that –
    They’d put up large, large money with A Strong One at the bat.

    But Romney and Ryan, succeeded McCain and Palin,
    and the former were a lulu and the latter were a cave-in
    so upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
    for there seemed but little chance of A Strong One coming up to the bat.

    But Kasich was the first, to the wonderment of all,
    and then Christie, the much despised, swore he’d tear the cover off the ball;
    But when the dust had lifted, and the GOP saw what occurred,
    There 16 were standing, men and women, all looking a lot like nerds

    Then from millions of throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
    it rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
    it knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
    for A Strong One, a mighty Strong One, was throwing in his hat.

    There was ease in the man’s manner as he stepped into his place;
    there was pride in the man’s bearing and a smile on his face.
    And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
    no stranger in the crowd could doubt t’was Donald J. Trump beneath that hat.

    Ten million eyes were on him as he smoothed his hair in place.
    Fifty million tongues applauded at the grin upon his face.
    Then while the other sixteen tried to respond with a quip,
    Defiance gleamed in Trump’s eye, a sneer curled Donald’s lip.

    And now the Kasich attack came hurtling through the air,
    and Trump stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
    Close by the sturdy builder the barb toward him sped—
    “That man eats like a pig,” he fired and “You’re done,” the voters said.

    From the benches, full of people, there went up a muffled roar,
    like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
    “Jeb’s a bum; Rubio’s a dolt” they shouted from the stands;
    and it’s likely they’d have thown bad fruit had not Trump raised his hand.

    With a smile of Christian charity so bright his visage shone;
    he stilled the rising tumult; he bade the race go on;
    he signaled to the crowd, and once more the voices flew a’flutter;
    but Trump he just nodded as they shouted and said: “Not one those left –they’ll melt like butter.”

    “There all Frauds” cried the millions of supporters “Frauds, we say frauds;
    Yet one scornful look from the Strong One and the audience, well, it was awed.
    They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his face it would strain,
    and they knew that Trump wouldn’t let a single one remain.

    The sneer was gone from Trump’s lip, his teeth were clenched and straight;
    He gives them all a favored label and with that he sealed their fates.
    And now there is one last one standing so short behind the podium.
    He knows not what to do; his voice sounds like an accordian,

    Oh, somewhere in his favored land the sun is shining bright;
    the band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
    and somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
    but there was no joy in Texas — for Ted Cruz too had dropped out.

    Liked by 8 people

  23. I am not that good of a poet BC but I try even with my misspelling 😦

    Simple Living

    The morning dew has lifted
    I embrace the day it foretells

    The story of a life lived
    I leave behind

    The life lived formed me
    It brought me thus far

    Today is a new beginning
    I birthed anew this dawn

    It lift’s up my spirit
    To greet this new day

    Awaiting what ever it gifts to me
    Birth and death repeats each day

    (Author Singingsoul)

    Liked by 5 people

  24. Caring



    There is a song of old
    
Music of the heart I am told.

    Friendship, laughter love and all 

    Caring and sharing a human call.



    To be bitter causes jitters

    For sure, it closes the heart’s door.

    Forgive yourself and others

    To open the door that matters.



    Be still and listen.
    Hear the universal song.
    
Love thyself and others.

    To love like God, 

    Is the essence of the heart.
    
Friendship, laughter love and all

    Caring is a human call.

    (SS)

    Liked by 7 people

  25. I’m not a poet, and this is not original, but I thought I might get away with dropping it here. Every year, as I get older, it speaks more clearly to me. I feel like I’m almost to the point I might have written it.

    AS I PASS through my incarnations in every age and race,
    I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
    Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
    And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

    We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
    That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
    But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
    So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

    We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
    Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,
    But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
    That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

    With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
    They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
    They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
    So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

    When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
    They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
    But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
    And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “Stick to the Devil you know.”

    On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
    (Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
    Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
    And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “The Wages of Sin is Death.”

    In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
    By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
    But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
    And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “If you don’t work you die.”

    Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
    And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
    That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four
    And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

    As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
    There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
    That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
    And the burnt Fool’s bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;

    And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
    When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
    As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
    The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

    Liked by 4 people

  26. It took me years to figure out I can find a nourishing silence that is alive anyplace even among foes.
    The Tree is a place that nourishes and does not drain energy.

    Silence

    Silence is not silent
    It is alive
    It speaks
    You are to busy
    Shutting it out
    Too busy to see
     
    It is waiting
    For you
    You are out
    Surrounded by noise
    Escaping the silence
    You
    Out in the world
     
    It is waiting
    For you
    Silence
    The universe is alive
    In you

    (SS)

    Liked by 3 people

  27. Poem Favorites

    These have spoken powerfully to me over the years.

    Love-Joy
    George Herbert

    As on a window late I cast mine eye,
    I saw a vine drop grapes with J and C
    Annealed on every bunch. One standing by
    Asked what it meant. I (who am never loath
    To spend my judgement) said, It seemed to me
    To be the body and the letters both
    Of Joy and Charity . Sir, you have not missed,
    The man replied; it figures JESUS CHRIST .

    ——
    Two by Frost:

    BEREFT
    Where had I heard this wind before
    Change like this to a deeper roar?
    What would it take my standing there for,
    Holding open a restive door,
    Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
    Summer was past and the day was past.
    Sombre clouds in the west were massed.
    Out on the porch’s sagging floor,
    Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
    Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
    Something sinister in the tone
    Told me my secret must be known:
    Word I was in the house alone
    Somehow must have gotten abroad,
    Word I was in my life alone,
    Word I had no one left but God.

    LODGED
    “The rain to the wind said,
    You push and I’ll pelt.’
    They so smote the garden bed
    That the flowers actually knelt,
    And lay lodged–though not dead.
    I know how the flowers felt.”
    ———
    Three by Dickinson:

    Look back on time with kindly eyes,
    He doubtless did his best;
    How softly sinks his trembling sun
    In human nature’s west!

    We never know how high we are
    Till we are called to rise;
    And then, if we are true to plan,
    Our statures touch the skies—

    The Heroism we recite
    Would be a daily thing,
    Did not ourselves the Cubits warp
    For fear to be a King—

    “Hope” is the thing with feathers –
    That perches in the soul –
    And sings the tune without the words –
    And never stops – at all –

    And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
    And sore must be the storm –
    That could abash the little Bird
    That kept so many warm –

    I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
    And on the strangest Sea –
    Yet – never – in Extremity,
    It asked a crumb – of me.
    ———
    Two by Hopkins

    Pied Beauty
    GLORY be to God for dappled things—
    For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
    For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
    Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
    Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough; 5
    And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

    All things counter, original, spare, strange;
    Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
    With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
    He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: 10
    Praise him.

    God’s Grandeur
    THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
    Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
    Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; 5
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
    Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

    And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; 10
    And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
    Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
    ———
    The Second Coming
    W. B. Yeats, 1865 – 1939

    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of
    Spiritus Mundi

    Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
    The darkness drops again; but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

    Liked by 1 person

  28. MOAR FROST

    A PRAYER IN SPRING

    Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
    And give us not to think so far away
    As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
    All simply in the springing of the year.

    Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
    Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
    And make us happy in the happy bees,
    The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

    And make us happy in the darting bird
    That suddenly above the bees is heard,
    The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
    And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

    For this is love and nothing else is love,
    The which it is reserved for God above
    To sanctify to what far ends He will,
    But which it only needs that we fulfil.

    TO EARTHWARD

    Love at the lips was touch
    As sweet as I could bear;
    And once that seemed too much;
    I lived on air

    That crossed me from sweet things,
    The flow of – was it musk
    From hidden grapevine springs
    Down hill at dusk?

    I had the swirl and ache
    From sprays of honeysuckle
    That when they’re gathered shake
    Dew on the knuckle.

    I craved strong sweets, but those
    Seemed strong when I was young;
    The petal of the rose
    It was that stung.

    Now no joy but lacks salt
    That is not dashed with pain
    And weariness and fault;
    I crave the stain

    Of tears, the aftermark
    Of almost too much love,
    The sweet of bitter bark
    And burning clove.

    When stiff and sore and scarred
    I take away my hand
    From leaning on it hard
    In grass and sand,

    The hurt is not enough:
    I long for weight and strength
    To feel the earth as rough
    To all my length.

    FIRE AND ICE

    Some say the world will end in fire,
    Some say in ice.
    From what I’ve tasted of desire
    I hold with those who favor fire.
    But if it had to perish twice,
    I think I know enough of hate
    To say that for destruction ice
    Is also great
    And would suffice.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank yo for sharing beautiful poems by masters. They were masters who beautifully connected words to the heart. The mastery of language is profound to me and I wish I could. My admiration for the great poets of all times is endless.

      Liked by 2 people

  29. A Morning Surprise

    A doe graced my garden path
    Unsure,
    In watchful posture
    Her brown coat sheen in the sun
    Glistening like bourbon on ice.

    Her frame so lean and elegant
    Moved carefully with each step
    She looked at me with searching eyes
    Studied for a moments breath.
    I past the test as neither friend or foe.

    The doe proceeded without fear
    Along the Garden path
    I carefully to the door
    (SS)

    Liked by 2 people

  30. Adding bakocarl’s latest (and in its FRESH composition). 😀

    Have a joyful and thankful Memorial Day, all!

    -W

    *****************

    The Journey

    A man looked at our country and saw the dark days;
    Liberty and justice all gone by the ways.

    Our spirit was smothered, our faith was put down,
    Our families suffered as the jobs left our towns.

    He knew hope remained, but soon would be gone.
    He knew he could help; a task he’d take on.

    “Our country’s been good to me. I’ll answer this call.
    I’ll stand in the gap and then rebuild the wall.”

    He’d leave what he knew and set himself to the chore
    To restore our great country and do even more.

    He’d give of himself and not for power or fame,
    But all for our country, and our country’s name.

    He left his happy home, his children and wife
    To travel this road and fix our country’s strife.

    The Traveler strode along his road of fate,
    And saw a long wall and in it, two gates.

    The Gatekeeper stood, in a small narrow yard,
    His visage was grim and he was lean and hard.

    The Traveler spoke, “I’ve come a long way.”
    “Can you tell me which gate I’m to use today?”

    The Gatekeeper said in a gruff, gravelly voice
    “It’s your destination, so it must be your choice.”

    “But there are two gates,” the Traveler said,
    “I can’t see the road, or what lies ahead.”

    The Gatekeeper said “I can show you the road,”
    “But the choice will be yours, which way to go.”

    The first gate was grand, it was tall and wide;
    Set with pearls and gold, a monument to pride.

    An inscription above, not just one, but two,
    “Enter ye worthy men.” and “To thyself be true.”

    The Gatekeeper said “Come over and see.”
    “This way is beautiful. I think you’ll agree.”

    The Traveler approached and looked down the way
    At trees, a brook, and a long green fairway.

    A broad, smooth road wound lazily away,
    And a breeze, puffy clouds, made a beautiful day.

    The people, he saw, walked toward the low hills;
    The men dressed richly, women gaily, with frills.

    He saw on a table, to the side of the road,
    A huge feast was placed, a sight to behold.

    He wasn’t quite sure, but thought he could hear
    Soft music playing and calling “Come here.”

    The Gatekeeper spoke, with words rather gruff
    “You’ve seen what you need. You’ve seen enough.”

    “Come over this way, come over and see,”
    “Have a look where the second gate will lead.”

    The Traveler came near and peered close to look
    At a small dirty gate in a small dirty nook.

    The second gate was drab and really quite low.
    He must stoop down before he could go.

    Above the small door, a few words were spread;
    “The last will be first.” was all that it said.

    The Traveler bent down and peered through the door
    At a few dying bushes, dirty weeds, nothing more.

    The path was narrow with holes, mud and rocks,
    Further on, small bushes with broken off tops.

    The scene was so bleak and the sky was so gray,
    Yet a voice of hope whispered through the dismay.

    Three men wearily marched with two drums and a fife,
    One limping, two bandaged, barely clinging to life.

    Another came by, bloody uniform in rags,
    Cradling gently in his arms a muddy, torn flag.

    He was helped by two women; one’s torch lit the way.
    Another, blind, held scales; they trudged slowly away.

    A small family appeared, starving, almost dead,
    But a man shared his meal, a small fish, some bread.

    All were so weary, some rested, and some prayed.
    There were a few children, but none of them played.

    Then the Traveler spoke, “It’s this way I’ll go.”
    “The small gate’s the way. I can help, I know.”

    The Traveler passed through and looked all around.
    The Gatekeeper watched, but didn’t make a sound.

    The Traveler reached out; took the hand of a child.
    The Gatekeeper stood up, and then slowly he smiled.

    *****************

    Link:

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/05/26/dear-maga-20190526-open-topic/comment-page-1/#comment-157858

    Liked by 2 people

  31. This is a prayer/poem from our beloved friend, Patrick Henry Censored [PHC]:

    …………………………………….

    The time has come for me to fly…………
    Bowed head, but not goodbye.
    This Treeper’s prayer for your well being, each day
    Hoping you’ll take care of one another, in every way
    Until that time we meet again
    Share in His love, that never ends.
    God Bless

    ~ PHC
    ………………………………………….

    He posted it on his Gravatar for a time, but it is no longer there.
    So I am sorry, but there is no link to it.

    Liked by 4 people

  32. Speaking of PHC – I wrote a poem on 05/30/2019 – entitled ‘Prayer for Patrick’ on CTH – with all that has happened OT – I am not sure I can retrieve a link – anyway – is it ok if I post it here – or should I post it on the Open Thread – Please advise – Thanks!

    Liked by 2 people

  33. PRAYER FOR PATRICK

    We prayed for you and for many others
    For Fathers, Mothers, Sisters, and Brothers
    God knows our hearts hurting deep down inside
    Where the Spirit of God came to reside.

    We cling to you with every ounce of strength
    You cannot imagine how or to what length
    We have felt your pain and struggled with you
    At times – at odds – with what we can do.

    If we could we would share to give you relief
    We would set aside our needs even our grief
    We would take your place each one in turn
    It is for your comfort and peace we yearn.

    What makes you so special above all the rest
    What did you give that made you one of the best
    Why do we feel close as if you were near
    What makes this all so hard Oh Brother Dear?

    Some have expressed what they love about you
    Some are tongue-tied and they haven’t a clue
    For all you have given to each one of us
    We cannot possibly return a truss.

    Please do not be sad for who you leave behind
    Think happy thoughts as you keep us in mind
    Remember the days when the sun shone bright
    The times you have done well and made it right.

    Remember the day when your love you met
    When you first kissed and held her closer yet
    The birth of your first child who breathed in life
    Even those times like now struggling in strife.

    You have earned your comfort, semblance of peace
    God is giving you a gift where the pain will cease
    You might slip in and out or fly high in the sky
    So enjoy and do not wonder what when or why.

    We will miss your presence with us on this blog
    We could dedicate a page and try not to clog
    We could continue to pray for good things to be
    For you, your family, and for all to see.

    There is something you must do before you leave
    Promise us that you will not cease to believe
    Promise us you will call out loudly to Him
    To fill you with His Spirit up to the brim!

    05/30/2016

    Liked by 4 people

        1. No 2nd fiddle needed here, Duchess. Some types of poetry are about expressing your feelings so that others can not only understand, but experience your thoughts and emotions also. You have accomplished that end result perfectly. I too, inexplicably, feel deeply about PHC’s situation. Quite unusual for me. Particularly, since I am convinced he is going to a place where the love will be overwhelming and the wonders never cease.

          Liked by 1 person

  34. Bakocarl’s latest poem inspired me to come and take another peek at the poetry tree. So many fun and inspiring additions have appeared since I first looked at it.
    A fairly recent conversation I had with a relative who teaches at a private school made me aware that Common Core does NOT teach any poetry. She, however being in a private school, could and did teach a unit on poetry. Poetry can be a window to one’s soul, and perhaps that’s why it’s been intentionally ignored.

    Liked by 3 people

  35. From bakocarl today…..

    *****

    bakocarl
    June 8, 2019 at 14:29

    The Q Tree – Welcome

    Welcome to The Q Tree. Please come right in.
    We know what it’s like, out there where you’ve been.
    Liberals everywhere, all wanting control;
    Their fear, hate and lies clutch at your soul.

    You’ve walked the long path down to our tree,
    But you’re safe now in our community.
    We’ve come together with similar minds –
    To free expression, we’re all inclined.

    We don’t need Big Brother giving commands,
    Telling what to say, and what is banned.
    We want to be governed by a gentle hand,
    Always of, by and for the common man.

    Wolfie and the few who run this place
    Are always glad to see a new smiling face.
    We birds in the branches welcome you, too,
    Hoping you’ll become part of our crew.

    In our Parler, you’ll be safe from the storm,
    Sitting by the fire, all comfy and warm.
    But, perhaps, you’ll want to feel more free,
    Perched high on a branch in our growing tree.

    Wherever you sit, we’d like your views,
    Your honest thoughts about what’s in the news.
    We’re here to listen, and hopefully well,
    To all the opinions that you want to tell.

    We’ll learn from you and, perhaps, you from us,
    From the different views that we will discuss.
    For sure, it won’t happen that we all agree;
    There are many types of birds perched in our tree.

    But, agree or not, you’re welcome here,
    Where we’re mostly friendly birds of good cheer.
    In time, we may enjoy one of life’s dividends,
    Chatting in our branches, together, as friends.

    Liked by you and 19 other people

    *****

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/06/08/dear-maga-20190608-open-topic/comment-page-2/#comment-169287

    Liked by 2 people

  36. This one appeared on today’s special Pentecost Daily Thread!

    bakocarl
    June 9, 2019 at 00:03

    Conclusions

    Now all has been heard;
    here is the conclusion of the matter:
    Fear God and keep his commandments,
    for this is the duty of all mankind.
    For God will bring every deed into judgment,
    including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.

    Men will seek wealth, power and fame
    And so they will lie, cheat and steal
    To get those things the world will give
    But passing by what God reveals.

    Our wealth is not in what we own,
    Or whether we’re suave or refined,
    But comes from God and His Spirit
    Within our heart, soul and mind.

    Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
    Don’t count on what you understand.
    In all your ways submit to him,
    And He will guide you in His plans.

    Guard your minds and your thoughts,
    Think of what’s true, noble and right.
    Don’t worry about anything,
    God has you clearly in His sight.

    Rejoice in the Lord, rejoice always,
    Praise Him and thank Him and pray.
    Let your gentleness be known to all,
    For the Lord may appear any day.

    All is known to Me, says the Lord;
    All that men think, do or say.
    And there will be an accounting;
    There will come the Judgment Day.

    But fear is not why we should act;
    We must all be guided by love.
    Our love of God and for His ways
    Will win His blessings from above.

    Liked by you and 3 other people

    bakocarl
    June 9, 2019 at 00:10

    Thanks T3, there is much to be learned from the Jewish Holidays, when they are understood and followed from the heart and not by rote as many acts in the church seem to devolve to.

    Liked by you and 1 other person

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/06/09/dear-maga-20190609-open-topic/comment-page-1/#comment-169470

    Liked by 1 person

  37. A FATHER’S LOVE

    God, Our Father, in His Heavenly Realm
    Our earthly father at home takes the helm
    In both – lies His great almighty strength
    For each – in His way goes to any length
    To provide not just for our earthly needs
    With love – daily He spiritually feeds.

    What greater gift could Our Father give
    To support us firmly so we can live
    What greater love could the Father show
    To guide us through this life to know
    What lives in His heart for us each day
    To bless us abundantly in every way.

    His Spirit is amplified in our earthly father
    Who guides – delineates – like a swather
    Separating and organizing to help make sense
    Of this wayward world – make recompense
    We would be lost without His Spirit guide
    We would quickly die outside and inside.

    Protector, provider, and guider is he
    Whom God has given here to thee
    Thank Him for your father today
    Thank Him profusely in every way
    The earthly one who made us feel secure
    Only God knows what he had to endure.

    The example God gave us of a man’s love
    A blessing that could only come from above
    His strength upon which we depend
    His love for us that knows no end
    The sacrifice he made so that we could be
    Upheld and secure in the stormy sea.

    Today is the day we honor that man
    Who struggled to give all that he can
    So that we might have a life secure
    A home, a hearth, and love for sure
    We give thanks to the Father above
    For our earthly father’s unselfish love.

    Thank You, Dad, for the love you gave
    From the first light of life to the grave
    Reap the rewards of a job well done
    When your earthly life is finally gone
    Rest in peace In your Heavenly home
    Never again will this earth you roam!

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/06/16/dear-maga-20190616-open-topic/

    Liked by 1 person

  38. Not posted anywhere – written 08/02/2019

    DEAR LORD JESUS

    We gather together – to acknowledge You
    All honor and reverence is Yours – it’s true
    Faith will guide our way in works for others
    Our prayers for our sisters and our brothers.

    We offer the first fruits of every day
    The Spirit of God there guiding our way
    To bless those in trouble and in turmoil
    The deeds of the devil we plan to foil.

    Our thinking – our actions – if flawed
    These can separate us from our God
    Anger and selfishness will do us in
    If we judge others – that leads to sin.

    The seven deadly are ones to avoid
    They cause dissension and love is destroyed
    Pride, greed, lust, wrath, gluttony, envy, sloth
    Lead only to trouble and leave us loath.

    Our lives are given to serve You, Lord
    The wages of sin we cannot afford
    Nothing in this world is worth having
    Nor should You have taken a lashing.

    The virtuous man stands tall and will gain
    The flowers of Faith, Hope, and Love deign
    Of justice, fortitude, and temperance feign
    When man uses pride over others to reign.

    Faith and Grace will keep us from error
    From hurtful words and lies and terror
    The devil attacks when we least expect
    Through someone we might least suspect.

    Forgiveness is the key to break the bond
    Between the devil and the person spawned
    Disparagement and abatement destroy love
    Decimate affection from God above.

    Jesus, My Love, you know what to do
    When there is division and derision too
    Send forth Your Spirit to quell the divide
    There is nowhere to run – nowhere to hide.

    Send Warrior Angels into battle please
    To defeat his minions with strength and ease
    Dispense to dry places from whence they came
    Never return – to cause sorrow and shame.

    Liked by 2 people

  39. God Will Guide

    There was a time when I didn’t know
    Which way to turn or how far to go.
    But then I looked deep into God’s Word
    And read some things that I’d never heard.

    I read of straight paths and armor to wear,
    The need to be still and the power of prayer,
    To do justice and to love mercy
    And walk with God, ever so humbly.

    To love my God with my mind and heart,
    And loving my neighbors is doing my part;
    To acknowledge God in all that I do,
    Any task at hand, He’ll see me through.

    To be patient and kind, humble, not proud,
    And worship my God in silence or aloud;
    Knowing that His love for me won’t cease
    Fills me with joy and calms me with peace.

    I’m still not certain of which way to turn,
    But reading God’s Word, I surely did learn
    To turn to God each and every day,
    And have faith in Him to guide my way.

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/10/14/dear-kmag-20191014-open-thread/#comment-279970

    Liked by 1 person

  40. The Graveyard Shift

    As I was trollin’ late one night,
    Just screwin’ with minds as I might,
    I stumbled onto The Q Tree.
    Now, I thought, this is just for me.

    I’ll mess their minds a little while
    With clever words and artful guile,
    Then leave them all in such a mess
    That they’ll cry “Mommy!” in distress.

    So I crept in to ply my trade
    And throw some skillful late night shade.
    Oh, so easy they’re bumbling chumps;
    Those drooling fools all support Trump.

    I’ll make some posts just bidin’ my time
    To lure them in with words sublime,
    Then when they think I’m on their side,
    I’ll strike and leave them petrified.

    Now, here it comes, I’m gettin’ close,
    Ready to post my hateful dose.
    There! It’s done! I’ve ruined their day.
    They’ll rue this time I came their way.

    But wait, what’s this that I now see?
    There’s a wolf hiding in The Tree!
    Hiding behind branch, leaf and bud
    With big, white fangs a-dripping blood.

    They slash and gnash and bite real deep.
    Alas! I’m doomed, now I must creep
    Back to my cellar in my chair
    And cry for mommy’s loving care.

    Now, there’s a moral to this tale
    For future trolls if they assail
    The Q Tree with the friends of Trump,
    To all beware lest they be chumps.

    There’s a grave shift late at night
    That settles in when there’s no light.
    You don’t see them, but they’re there,
    Lurking in their leafy lairs.

    Big birds with beaks that rip and tear;
    Talons that gouge lest you beware.
    Mean old birds with caustic tongues,
    To breach your throat, rip out a lung.

    They wait and watch for any trolls
    To eat their brains and steal their souls.
    So, trolls beware, if fun you crave,
    The Q Tree is your early grave.

    https://wqth.wordpress.com/2019/06/01/dear-maga-20190601-open-topic/comment-page-1/#comment-162623

    Liked by 1 person

  41. For Duchess

    I had planned a poem or two
    To start this thread with some wordplay.
    But now I must change the subject
    For the happenings of today.

    The time has come, someone once said,
    To think and write of other things;
    Of dear friends and their memories,
    And of the joyful times they bring.

    We were sitting, perched in our tree,
    Discussing details of the coup,
    Trying to think of the future,
    As the promise of justice grew.

    As we talked, we heard the sounds
    Of footsteps coming down our way.
    Some leaves crinkled and some twigs snapped,
    But who would be coming this day?

    The sounds grew closer in our wood,
    With some small glimpses here and there.
    Someone, for sure, was on their way
    To our peaceful, green-enrobed lair.

    On the far side of our clearing,
    A slight figure came into view,
    Picking her way through the tall grass,
    As closer and closer she drew.

    The way she stood, the way she walked,
    There was something familiar here
    That, as yet, remained elusive
    Until she finally drew near.

    A large pack bulged upon her back,
    Filled with God’s blessings for us all,
    As our joyous, heartfelt welcomes
    Flowed with the memories recalled.

    O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
    Our Duchess has found us at last!
    Duchess with her verse of the day,
    And wit and wisdom unsurpassed.

    The sun shines golden on our tree,
    Some small clouds drift, puffy and white.
    A slow breeze stirs the dark green leaves,
    And Qbirds sing with our delight.

    Welcome Duchess, we’ve missed you here.
    We’re so happy you’ve found our pack.
    QTreeps cheer and sing with joy, and
    Wolfie performs the futterwack.
    _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

    We’d be remiss unless we give
    Our special thanks to PHC.
    Though in very dire circumstance,
    You brought our Duchess to our tree.

    Thank you, PHC.

    Posted 3 Jun 2019

    Liked by 1 person

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