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Posts Tagged ‘poem’

Poem

Oh, what of the day, when sin passed away

And glory surrounded the soul

Gone was my night, all was pure light

Christ had made me wholly whole.

His way was best – my soul had soul-rest.

– eab, 1/27/10

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Ever see a poem “- Selected”?

Did its author feel neglected?

Good publishers all, of course,

Always show the correct source,

Responsibility reflecting.

 

But if some printer has refused,

Really, why make him feel abused

Yield to his unkind “Edit.”

Allow failure for “credit.”

(Notice above the First Letters used.) J – eab, 11/29/05

Penned in Kingston (eastern) Ontario, Canada.  

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There’s a crowd gathering on another shore,

The group’s grower larger every day.

They are gathering in from all directions,

Yet all came there by God’s narrow way.

 

That crowd had skins of different shades,

Spoke languages to each other quite unknown,

But they are connected by one Royal Blood,

For Christ firmly owns them for His own.

 

That crowd landed where they planned to land.

They found their long sought heavenly goal.

They weathered all life’s threatening storms,

Insisting on “saving” (at all cost) their soul.

 

Soon, Friend, you may be gathered with them,

Soon I may join the celestial number,

Where the Son is the light for all the day,

(And where we’ll need no night for slumber.)

 

Let us then be Faithful with a capitol “F,” 

To the Lord who rules that group, that shore,

And gather with the enumerable saints, young and old.

Gather to Christ, and gather to part nevermore.        – eab, 8/25/08  

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“Alas! and Did My Savior Bleed?”  (stanzas 1,3,5)

 

Alas! and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?

Refrain

At the cross, at the cross where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away,
It was there by faith I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day!

 

Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

 

Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.       (Underlining -eab)

 

Isaac Watts died this day in England, his native land.  He is known for many worshipful hymns and, of course for, “Joy to the World.”  The average reader may be unaware that Watts also wrote, Logick (1725)  Knowledge of the Heavens and Earth (1726)  Philosophical Essays (1733)  The Improvements of the Mind (1741) all used for decades at Cambridge, Oxford, Harvard, and Yale!

 

Watts is said to have rhymed so much as a kid that his dad wanted it stopped to which Isaac replied “O father, do some pity take

                                                And I will no more verses make.”

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Let a big drift so softly sift

Its way between the streets.

Let rain come down, all over town,

In blowing, whited sheets.

Let sleet and hail not one time fail

To come when they desired.

Why so adjure the weather?

I’m a postman that’s retired. [1]

 

May Dobermans make lanes their runs

And jump on every man.

May German sheps plague the back steps

Of white and blue marked vans.

May Saint Bernards and Great Danes charge

The walker most admired,

Cause I’m no longer out there –

I’m a postman that’s retired.

 

“I didn’t get my first class yet.”

“But I don’t know their zip.”

“Of course, I’m mad, I know it had

A…a stamp.”  Oh loud lip!

“You’re late again; it’s a big sin

This wage at which you’re hired!”

Their gripes I’ll no more endure –

Tell the next man.  I’m retired.

 

Here comes the first, with its date cursed

By mailings once a month.

Here comes junk mail, the annual sale,

Bulk printings by the “tonth.”

And the season with the reason,

To dislike cards inspired.

Ah, it bothers me not;

Not this Christmas, I’ve just retired. -eab 11/24/85  

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Thank you God for ten fingers, and my running toes,

Thank you for my two big ears and my runny nose.

Thank you for the hair on my head,

And for sentences my eyes have read,

Thanks for the words my tongue just said,

And thank You for my tummy–well fed.

 

Thank you for the good Mother of mine,

Who does my cloths and supper so fine.

Thank You God for my grand ole dad

Though at times he makes me sad,

Spanking (he thinks I’m been bad!)

All other hours he makes me glad.

 

Thank You God for your Holy Bible,

Because by it our family is able,

To read the promises that are very old,

To hear the story of David so bold,

Be warned to be either hot or cold,

And read of parables which are ten-fold.

 

And Lord, I’d really be remiss,

(Image my grandchild saying this.)

If I forgot to thank You for

Gram and Gramp (wish they lived next door).

Thanks for cousins, aunts, uncles and more,

Thanks for blessings, blessings galore.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING ! ! !

            -Gramp, Thursday, November 23, 2000.

Written while Associate Professor of Bible, Hobe Sound Bible College, Florida

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Ole Achan saw, coveted, took;

Became a bad name in the good Book.

Coveting is against God’s law,

Though the sin was not that he saw.

Watch – Do not take that second look.  –eab, 11/20/05

 

Written in eastern Ontario (Frontenac County) while pastoring with the Pilgrims.

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