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Peredhil - Poetry

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(From 'Feast of Words' - Apprentice Banquet Hall)


The Warrior and The Troll?


The warrior young, married maiden troll

And transformed her with his love

Through many years, he loved her dear

They fit like hand and glove.


The years they passed, their bairns were born

They turned out very well

But trollish heart, dark seed well-hid

Bloomed into doom so fell.


She'd bloated on, his selfless love

She'd grown in self and strength

until at last, she'd grown away

And told him off at length.


"I married you," quoth the Troll

"I'd thought there'd never be another"

"I stayed with you, for gilted geld"

"But now I've found some other."


"It's just a fling, It's no big deal -"

"Just scratching a lustful itch."

"He's another Troll, it's just a roll"

"The marriage I don't intend to ditch."


He shook his head and looked at her

His marriage and heart felt bust

He loved her still, and kept the kids

But left with her the lust.


His heart was clear, untouched by hate,

Not filled with rage nor strife

He wished her well, and closed the door

Goodbye to faithless wife.

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(From the Conservatory - Poetry)


The Wizard and the Valkyrie


In Ultimo Thud she fired my blood

She was so bonny bright

A Valkyrie strong, a warrior grim

A love at first sight.


Together we carved a little land

A life so free and gay

The hoary Wizard, the Warrior Maid

Our lives were charmed and fey.


But soon the geld and mana fell

The resources became tight

Our stacks were eating fortress and home

A source of endless fight.


“Get rid of the fiery Dragons Red”

She was so want to cry,

“Be my guest; ask them to leave,”

Came my hot reply.


The Chimeras and Sallys round

My ice queen could not stand

HellHounds breathing down our necks;

I could not understand.


“They help us keep our kingdom, Dear

Certainly you can see

Eradication’s all I know!”

She ignored my fevered plea.


So now my love has gone and flown

Her passion was too cool

She couldn’t live with Red Red Mage

My fires were too cruel.


Stoke up them high, the flames of Hell

Lost love is our banner

I’ve no heart, ‘cept for war

To gaining lands for our manor.


This empty husk that once was man

Is now a mannequin

With blood and gore I keep the score

And burn where I have been


It’s all that’s left since she left

My buxom Nordic one,

Who swung a sword beside the fjord

Living just for fun.

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(Conservatory - Poetry)


Life's not Fair


Some say that life should be fair

I've never seen it written anywhere

In life's murky immoral FOG

There is no 'fairness' Decalouge.


Is it fair that one random attack

Can provoke seven counters back,

Just because a hero gave her all -

To lead her sheep and heroically fall?


Is it fair that the Measure obscures the Code,

That words are spoken and spun and used to goad.

The ponderous traditions are used to grind

The player's joys are left behind.


Is it fair that jumping off of a cliff

Just because you're life-tired or very miffed

Leaves no room for change or regret

Think before leap is still best bet.


Is it fair that one act of no self-control

Perhaps too-quick a word or hastening toward a goal

Can have consequence that endure for life

Is it easier to fight than to end all the strife?


Is it fair that lust for just one time,

Can be considered a societal statutory crime?

Or lead to an swollen unwanted pregnancy?

Or to death by AIDS-spawned malignancy?

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('The Conflicts Withing' - Conservatory, Poetry)


Peredhil listens to the sad lament and ponders long before parting lips.

Rather than risk shattering the jewel of beauty she's uttered with ungainly and awkward reply, he looks at the small brave Magess who overcomes so much so well.

Realizing that one can only walk shadow with one's back to the light, he speaks softly.



Friends are the mirrors that cherish your soul

When the oceans of life ebb in inevitable tide

Eroding the ideals on which you stride

Faerie castles washed away by pride.


Your love is he that holds you close

When strength is draining away

Fierce passions bleed to gray

Uncertainties in every place lay.


Lovely Huntress stalking the shadows

When you’ve looked too long into the night

Shadows are blackest when backed by light

Let weary endurance be infused with joy so bright.


Updated version submitted to Poetry.com




Friends are the mirrors that cherish your soul

When oceans of life ebb, mutable tide

Eroding ideals once held with such pride

Faerie castles washing away with the tide.


Your love is the one that holds you so close

When heart's strength is draining, dripping away

Bleeding the fiercest passions dull-gray

Every where uncertainties doubt and delay.


Lovely Huntress stalking slayers of life

When at darkness you've looked, dazzled by night

Let heart be strong with knowledge of right.

Shadows are blackest when one's back's to the light.

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A cautionary tale...


The Priestess left the Abbey West

On a palfrey pale,

She headed off to Orphanage

(She felt she'd fled a jail).


Though Nun denied her virtuous

She'd healed and turned undead,

There was within a molten flow

She'd always left unsaid.


Along the ride she met a Man

A Warlord brave and bold

Dashing scars, the Look of Eagles

Veteran yet not too old.


His eyes hers met as each rode alone

His face went very red.

He began to scheme quite Tactic'ly

On how her he would bed.


With deep bass which echoed thousands

Of Leadership issued Command,

He opportuned that they ride together

She acceded to his demand.


His velvet rough voice gave her soul shivers

She felt her heart purloined,

He spoke beneath her intellect

Direct to where legs joined.


The Nun never arrived at Orphanage

Least not as chaste Priestess.

He breached her promise, pillaged her chest,

And left wombed child as guest.


So 'ware you well you hot-cleft maids

Your vows and power hard-bought,

Enemy within, 'twill always begin,

With traitoress' heart's untamed thought...

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Written for Cheyenne at the Seekers of Babylon board.

Published in a International Society of Poets compilation book.


I knew I’d find you here

As I ventured out to explore

I've hurt, My friend, my oh so Dear -

Innocence shaken to the core.


But I knew you’d wait – you must!

My paragon of friendship true

The memory of your stalwart trust

Has helped to bring me through.


As I wandered far and wide

I never slipped your anchor

I swallowed tears I might have cried

Chose wisdom ‘stead of rancor.


And if I had the strength to roam

And found strength to never fear –

It’s ‘cause you were safe at home

I knew I‘d find you here.

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Madoka-chan had little lamb

It’s hooves struck steely sparks

And when Inspector came to play

It chased him through the park


The little lamb seemed ill one day

It’s mouth showered snowy foam

Madoka-chan penned it close

It wasn’t free to roam


Inspector came with fire and knife

And grinned his evil grin

The time had come at long long last

To do a lil’ lamb in


Wool flew wide, the knife it flashed

The carnage was obscene

When all was done the lamb appeared -

Inspector no longer seen.


When times are tough and grazing dry

A growing lamb can’t cope

It needs its meat or something sweet

Madoka-chan gives it soap…

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Some dance with death because the contrast heightens life.

Some woo death with little gifts, eager to go.

Some escape pain, seeking solace in death’s arms.

Some ignore death for goals disdainful of any harms.

Some use death to say, “I told you so.”

Some fear death and so hide themselves safely from life.


Is death a release into a greater whole?

A finish?

A brief interlude?

A transition?

An endless ride on the wheel, seeking the No-mind hub?


Dare one seek knowledge’s Promethean fire?

The way back is perilous in deed indeed.

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The painful past holds lessons

It would be well to learn

Yet forward must the heart

Seek, strive and yearn


The past becomes the fertilizer

In which life’s seeds are sown

Yester’s actions, today’s thoughts

And tomorrow’s deeds are born.


Yes the past is dead and gone

It’s only NOW we exists

We press into the future

Even as we resist.


But armor not against us all

My lovely fallen one

There’s strength in vulnerability

Together we’ll have fun.


One’s only just as strong

As what one’s overcome

But two are so much stronger

When they help each other some.

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Written for the the Mercenaries of Archmage. I'd pictured that they were Heroes-in-Training. Heroes weren't available for hire until Level 8, and didn't get special abilities until Level 9.


The willing warriors give their blood

On battlefields galore

They give and give and give and give

Until they’d give no more


The mystic Mage that’d hires them

Sends them all a-packing

Back to the chamber, the Sword for Hire

He’s found them sorely lacking.


Pity the poor hire-sword a-waitin' in the hall

Wanting to be a hired helpful hero.

No Magi chance-hires under level eight -

And they all start at zero.

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Reply to a poem by Porcelin (Shadow Flower Maiden, Heart like a Hole.)


The ragged cries of the child's pain

Never push up to her lips

Her adult body, protective shell

Cradles the still-bleeding wounded one

Torn with a thousand words

Assaulted with blows

Until she learns a dumb complacency.

But online, in the intimacy of the Cyber

The wounded girl creeps hesitantly out

And screams her pain

Shouts her bloody wounds

Flaunts her bruises

And accepts the touch that would drive her


Away -

Craving tenderness yet suspecting motives.


In the Cyber night

We heal one another

If they've the courage

To accept it.


Reply to a chance remark by Rihvannes requesting poetry about food.


He turns to another...



Our Stomachs cry to you!



Nothing else will do!


With tons of coke we quench the fires,

Too much spice raised stomach pyres,




And now this poem is through!



Reply to the Roll-Call of Poets


Submission for a Called Roll:

It is worth noting,

Creatives are insecure.

Will a haiku count?


Roll-Call Rap:

Yo! Yo!

The poets are in the house you know

And they're gonna take you down below

The thinking critical part that sneers

And show how how to express your fears

'Cause conservatory Poets can ROCK the HOUSE

While others creep around quiet like a MOUSE

Don't let the lame ones tear you DOWN

If they don't contribute to the Poetry SOUND!


Word up.


Poster's Lament:

How doth the poet's little rhyme

Entertain thee for such a little time?

With so many threads to wander through

Can ye be sensitive to the new?

Or does it all mix and blend

Against poignant words thy heart defend-

Will not ye thy precious time ye lend?

And see with eyes made pure?


We work our craft for little pay

The empty threads view with dismay

With so many threads to wander 'tween

We cannot track were ye hast been

Unless you give that gentle touch

Ye needn't reply with all too much

We lean on thy feedback as a crutch

For we're all so insecure.

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Originally posted in The Archmage Conservatory Poetry.


Wandering in, he begins to Scribble on the wall...


A motley fool with roving eye

A walking winsome lass did spy

"My heart is pierced," he did cry

But Cupid's arrow had stuck quite lower.


He followed after most quickly

And although in lust he spoke thickly

With clever words he won her through trick'ry

And wisked her away to explore lust's bower.


They giggled and dined most handily

And he pranced and strutted most dandily

Once consummated, he told her most candidly

That he now must be moving along.


But tables they turned on manly talker

For he did not understand the lovely walker

And only now did he realize she was a Stalker

who'd never forget a wrong.


And so they live in married life

The motley fool and jealous wife

He's careful to never give her strife

Because her his live would end.


So all you lustful smooth young men

Take heed of warning from my pen

Flirt carefully when you have the yen

For certain broken hearts don't mend.


Yours in silliness,


Elrond Peredhil, 31

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1982. Forced rhymes and all.


In Shadow Mountains stood Fangtooth old

Grim holdfast of Powers bold,

Long before man crossed the sea

Fangtooth held iniquity.


Man's first ships settled shore

Aged forest hid stag and boar,

Children played in jeweled sand

Fangtooth brooded in deep heartland.


Many years passed around the sun

Complacent kings fought for fun,

Simple men the lands still worked

Evil still in Fangtooth lurked.


A shadow grew in many heart

Power threw a wicked dart:

Nameless Terror stalked the land

Fangtooth reached a withered hand.


Deep on night it stalked the moors

Pausing, whispering, testing doors,

Friendly sun grew far away

Terror's memories haunting day.


With tempers short King questioned Mage

But no advice could open cage,

Fangtooth's spies told of shame and dearth

And fled from echoing hideous mirth.


One fated night the Shadow's walk

Attracted to some laughing talk,

A boy and puppy swam in play

Heedless of the dying day.


With sheep and dog the shepherd boy

In simple hut lived, filled with joy.

In forest depths without a care

Near hidden lake deep Merrowmere.


The Shadow came quick on the scene

The dog and boy still washing clean,

The innocence of naked state

Fangtooth's Shadow swelled with hate.


Rushing on the joyful glen

A sight to frighten hardened men,

Cloaked in shadows, Fangtooth's might

The Nameless Terror rushed to fight.


In sudden fright the puppy started

Fleeing fight but no sooner parted

From master's side when 'neath his coat

A rush of love surged into throat.


Turning in tracks with bounding leap

The teeth bounded off, but Love struck deep,

Beneath its hide the Shadow bleed

And so from Puppy Love it fled.


Armed with light wrath set the pace

Boy and dog started chase,

Through forest and mount, tireless hours

They hunted Fear now stripped of powers.


Wilder lands into Hills of Pain

Followed shepherd boy and Terror's Bane,

Higher still past Witches Fountains

Secret paths to Shadow Mountains.


Until at last through Gap of Hate

The trail did end at Fangtooth's gate,

Last refuge of the darkling Powers

Poisoned rocks, thrusting towers.


In plunged the two, wrath unbated

Through shadowed halls where malice waited,

Silence's reign now was shattered

Cross midnight stones sandals clattered.


Into dark pierced now the light

The boy's hand was strong, eyes were bright,

While through his song wove words of might

A shield of Love repelled the Fright.


The hideous scenes long kept in dark,

Hewed in stone, a grim hand's work,

Crumbled pits to test the daring

The boy passed by with steps unerring.


Singing words of evil, black Powers cold;

Chants of terror remain here untold.

Above them all there rang the pride,

Of Fangtooth's Master, never tried.


For many hero or wizened mage,

Had fallen to the lesser rage

Of henchlings song or subtle snare

Of promised help or deep despair.


Not one endured to find his way

To Fangtooth's 'neath light of day,

Some fought for pride, some for glory

Others for reasons untold in story.


All had carried deep with in

A knowledge of some buried sin,

A deadly seed brought to flower

In hero's heart by Fangtooth's power.


The brightest sword, the greatest spell

One by one they fought and fell

Into the pages turned into past

For want of hand or heart steadfast.


Filled with memory of victories long,

Fangtooth's Powers swelled in song,

Some offered glory, a flashing sword,

Or loves in chains; deceptive words.


They wove bright webs of glistening sights,

Fairy palaces filled with lights;

They tried dark tales of loved ones pained

Or glories lost and honors stained.


One by one voice rose and tried,

To find the flaw hid deep inside

The boy that came, for they were sure

No mortal lad could be that pure.


On and on the shepherd came

He wept at those that offered pain,

He gave to fear no passing thought,

Too young for lust - he answered naught.


One by one they tried and failed

As simple love and trust prevailed

Until at last was only Master

Seeped in hatred, life's disaster.


With bright eyes the Powers waited

The conclusion certain, outcome fated

Dark's final song would now be heard

By faithful dog and young shepherd.


The Master rose with glittering eye

And towered high into the sky

Pale loathsome hands, face alabaster,

Clad in power, now sang the Master.


"Against your might I can't prevail,

I surrender throne and rune-forged veil,

I've waited long for you to come,

The messenger of distasteful love,"


"I yield it all and all my forces

You I'll teach in long discourses,

How to rule and use the power

Fangtooth's might is yours this hour."


The Powers choked on rage and fear

What words were these? What did they hear?

The one they'd served wore craven's brand

Submitting to a child's hand?


The shepherd trembled and lowered head

With such power he could rule instead

Bring joy and light to darkened halls,

Bring peace and love to tear down walls.


Surely he could help the lands!

His bent face studied suntanned hands,

While patiently the Master knelt

Ending song, stone heart did melt.


In limp hand thrust a nose appealing

Growling at the figure kneeling

The light of love in flash laid bare:

The Master had cast a final snare!


With rising anger boy say the pit

Sung with power and subtle wit,

Truly eviller and mightier than all

Had been Master of Fangtooth's hall.


Unshakable knowledge of truth and light

Renewed the boy in power and sight,

Into the silence the young voice rang

A song of love and hope he sang.


His voice raised strong, a vision of life,

Ruled by truth, untouched by strife,

With guiding warmth from Power above

That made the sun and earth with love,


That'd touched the life of shepherd boy

Had filled young depths with strength of joy

Who guarded from all hate and care

The forest beside deep Merrowmere.


Of Man's potentials, simple strength,

Rooted in youth, grown up at length,

Of long sea voyages from afar

Man's future made a rising star.


"Light's new reign takes none of old

Rejecting darkness' foul mold

New foundations are being cast

Darkness shan't be allowed to last!"


The boy sang on, his voice a fire

Driving back the Master Liar,

Wounding deep with every word

The Master of the Fangtooth brood.


Until at last the stained walls battered

Dark's last stronghold fell and shattered

Fangtooth crumbled before the word

of loyal dog and young shepherd.


In Shadow Mountains lies Fangtooth's ruin

torn by time its hoards lie strewn,

Over grassy mounds feed fleecy sheep

While shepherds guard from sunlit keep.

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A sledding day

A sledding song

A swooshing slide

It won't be long


The snow is firm

And fleecy white

Our delighted screams

As sleds we fight


Quick 'round a trunk

Racing down a trail

Cold-bitten cheeks

A cliff! We bail!


Intrepid riders of the snow

Ignoring winter's bite

Warming hands 'round hot cocoa

Breath steaming out so white.

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a stream of conscious nonsense write. 10/14/1982


Twas nigh unto a short-sheep's toe

When battled Fred and Little Moe

They fought with leers

They fought with haste

They beat each other with library paste.


Into the Autumn gloom was spent

Another blow, another feint

A battle of consuming rage

Soon arms tired of punches made

And so they switched to lemon-aide.


Spring has come while cats meow

Little Moe wipes fevered brow

Frantic Fred wearily sighs a sigh

Of days flown by; back to the struggle

They renew the pace and begin to juggle.


Fred drops a stitch on Little Moe's toes

But bones self-knit, it's a zucchini throw

A Custard pie

Some Indian pork

A Little Bighorn for just such work.


The dawning day of New Year's End

They reconcile to re-swear as friend

They've forgotten the grievance

They fought to redress

It's still undressed, I now confess


Their logical thinking (and yours too)

Had badly bruised the tipsy canoe

To escape further fighting

And multiple contusions

They jumped ship and landed conclusions.


This poem is over, has passed season

In its defense I claim no reason

Its only thought

Was to spank a Fancy

(Want nude photos? Just ask Nancy.

Where she got 'em I don't know.)

But a well-rounded Fancy seems to glow...

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Ode to Pizza. I've written several poems and songs on this topic, dear to my heart. 10/15/1982


Mouth-watering cheese seasoned to taste

Gooily combined with rich tomato paste

Thin flakey crust delicate and light

tiny little meatballs half out of sight.


Pizza! Pizza! Our stomachs cry to you!

Pizza! Pizza! Nothing else will do!

your wafting smell incites desire

With tons of Coke we quench the fire.


Truly pizza's a gustatory delight

It tastes so good when made just right

I'm eating my pizza night after night!

(And night after night after night after night...)

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hormones are a pain. 10/15/1982


Winsome lass

A tiny mite

Looks at me

Eyes wide in fright,


I smooth over

The brief surprise

mmm, deepest blue

With gray-flecked eyes


In such depths

I long to sink

long eyelashed

Nose sweetly pink


Fair smooth flesh

Firm alabaster

Heart-breaking wench

Leads to disaster


Long slender legs

Large natural breasts

Sharp-edged tongue

Full of jests.


She lifts me up

Or casts me down

With winning smile

or too-cute frown


She's the woman

I'm helpless against

The tragedy is

She doesn't exist!

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This prolly belongs in the Scarlett Pen... 10/10/1982



Propositioned ear,

Lips so wet

Lips so near.


Trembling sighs

Sweet caress

Quivering thighs

Silken dressed.


Passion's moans

Inarticulate gasps

Fleshed bones to bones

The lovers clasp.


Arched back face

Half-spoken pleas

Tortured pace

Sweet fingers tease...


Heaving breasts

Surrendering release

Surging... crests!

Subsides to peace.

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A typical winter mood poem 12/20/1982


I write these words they fill my mind

With unsated longings, relief hard to find.

A flickering flame, a growing vine

Fire-lit bodies in love entwined.


I need to give, to share, to thrust

These growing thoughts in which I trust

You'll share a moment's thought and smile

Listen to my song; please stay a while.


Faerie towers thrust to the sky,

A gentle mother wipes child's eye,

A new-grown check afraid to try,

Teaming market-square: sell or buy?


This terrible need to communicate

Please give an hou and share the fate

Of charming prince arrayed in style

Listen to my song, please stay a while.


Our bodies forget while minds soar free

Together we'll glimpse eternity

For your presence sweet, there's extra mile,

Listen to my song, please stay a while.

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Written to a young Irish lass at the 1982 World's Fair in Knoxville TN. On a whim I wrote her this and had a button made of her face which I wore at work. She asked me out and I was too tired after the final day to go! :P 06/14/1982


Red red hair

Frames freckled face,

Even white smile

Causes blood to race,

Apparition named Tracy -

Can you be true?

Such beauty given flesh,

So fresh and new.


An information girl

Seated in narrow booth,

Handles with grace

Many visitors (uncouth),

Crisp white dress

With string black tie,

Covers pert young form -

Brings unhidden sigh.


The World's Fair may end

But I have her picture,

Pleasure of meeting Tracy

Has made 1982 richer,

The button on my chest

Shows her smiling face,

Proof positive manifest

My claims I based.

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Another winter song. 11/29/1983


People stride by, all uncaring

Unaware that I'm here staring

They pas my doors and scurry away

Turning their collars against the day.


ᅟ But in my room I watch them go

ᅟ Restless mice afraid to slow

ᅟ Afraid to laugh, afraid to play

ᅟ Afraid of night, afraid of day

ᅟ From my window I still perceive

ᅟ The tangled fates their small lives weave

ᅟ A Gordian Knot of fears they live

ᅟ Afraid to take, afraid to give...


The trees, they grow and fight for life

Yet fight no wars and breed no strife

On sunlit days the bark feels warm

Secure yet scarred from weathered storm.


ᅟ Outside my room I watch them grow

ᅟ Sucking strength from far below

ᅟ They feel no pain, fuel no hate

ᅟ They feel no love, nor celebrate

ᅟ From my view I yet perceive

ᅟ Life has more than growing leaves

ᅟ Trees so tall, thrusting to the sky

ᅟ Higher emotions pass them by...


In his mansion the rich man hoards

A thousand jewels over which he lords

Gold-chased bed and porcelain vase

Yet not content with what he has.


ᅟ From my room I see his greed

ᅟ He has no friends: an aching need

ᅟ From his trap is no remission

ᅟ His love is lack, want and suspicion

ᅟ In my sight I now perceive

ᅟ Love needs trust, not fear of thieves

ᅟ A store laid up beyond the sky

ᅟ What value earth's stores, when we die?


The beggar whines and claws at coat

A pitying tear catches in my throat

Yet when I share what I have to offer

Rejects living waters for coin-filled coffer.


ᅟ From my door I watch and grieve

ᅟ People search while the world deceives

ᅟ Offered joy, they seek for fun

ᅟ Look for hope, when life is done

ᅟ Yet in my heart I can perceive

ᅟ A way to life, if they'd believe

ᅟ A way to life all might achieve

ᅟ If Word of God they'd just believe...


In from of my door they all pass by

No hope in eyes, afraid to cry

Can truth and light pierce waxen ear?

They might believe if they could hear -

I leave my room and end my sight

The time as come to speak with might

To teach a word that doesn't lie

To offer choice before they die...

To offer choice, before they die...

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Written for Cheyenne at the Seekers of Babylon board.

Published in a International Society of Poets compilation book.


I knew I'd find you here

As I ventured out to explore

I've hurt, My friend, my oh so Dear -

Innocence shaken to the core.


But I knew you'd wait – you must!

My paragon of friendship true

The memory of your stalwart trust

Has helped to bring me through.


As I wandered far and wide

I never slipped your anchor

I swallowed tears I might have cried

Chose wisdom 'stead of rancor.


And if I had the strength to roam

And found strength to never fear –

It's 'cause you were safe at home

I knew I'd find you here.


I love this!

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