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R.K. Hart

Young mother has a secret.

There is a glint in her eyes,
A glint that discloses her lies.
It is not lie of commission,
But a lie of omission.

Her husband is aware,
It's a secret they share.
They decide it won't be public just yet.
For now they will keep their secret.

Slowly they let the family know,
And watch as Grand Parents glow.
Aunties and Uncles are excited,
Cousin's expectation ignited.

A month or two rolls on,
And their heart is full of song.
On the distant horizon,
There is a sad, sad song.

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His Kingdom He Storks

He storks his kingdom having been released,
Watching over his human feast.
The every day man who knew it all,
Who said, I'll make the call.

Sulphur burns creating it's fowl stink,
Forever now he and this place are linked.
The every day man made his choice,
Now he hears many a man's whaling voice.

Screams come from this bottomless pit,
Tell my loves not to come here, use wit.
Take a message if you would to my friends,
Come not where fire and screams never ends.

His demons scream from the bowels of the pit,
Where there is no sleep, no rest in it.
This kingdom where there is no praise,
It's inhabitants hear no joy all their days.

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My Sweet Bride

Come walk with me my sweet bride,
If need be along life's tempest side.
Through howling storms and fury's edge,
Against it's might I would be your strong hedge.

Come walk with me my sweet bride.
Through meadows far to beautiful to hide.
Where nature blankets every ripple and hill,
Will the glorious golden daffodil.

Come walk with me my sweet bride.
Hand in hand through life with pride.
You with the man of your heart.
And me with you, my work of art.

Come walk with me my sweet bride.
Where life's sand storms collide.
Across deserts where life dare not go.
With you in hand, this becomes gentle snow.

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But Half A Man

When illness ravages the body,
And skin glistens so damply.
When blotchy is his countenance,
Pity is the result of his semblance.

As his body determines to be out of control,
And normality is nothing more than a pinhole.
These are times before drugs kick in,
Pain barely surmountable causes chagrin.

This moment I see unquestioning love,
His comfort attains restful harmonic octave.
Undeserving you spend your self,
Generosity and grace your abounding wealth.

He can but a scintilla repay what is owed,
You insist on showing love that only to be followed.
Love that makes half a man a king,
With a heart that like 1000 choirs sing.

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I Met A Man.

Along the road called Life I met a man today,
He asked if I were going his way.
I took a minute and looked him up and down,
Just to ask myself if he were someone I wanted to be around.

His heart was black with sin,
There seemed very little if any goodness within.
The years had etched upon his face,
And you my friend are failure and disgrace.

Now I noticed him looking back into me,
I was not going to be allowed to think my thoughts for free.
He looked at me and read my thought,
He spoke and this is what he taught.

You my son are me and I am you,
Your skin brown or your eyes deepest blue.
Each has choices to make,
And doors with paths to take.

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The Flower

I wandered though a deep dark moonlight night
My aim to seek and find a wondrous sight.
High and low I searched to find,
Was it high, low, or just behind.

I had searched many a garden bed in this old town,
But my prize was not yet to be found.
There were many a beautiful flower I would plead.
But never the one I would need.

There were those with whom one could make do,
There is no one that could measure up to you.
But You are the beauty of all flowers
I gaze on you for marvelous hours.

The creator does ask that we make do,
But wait till He asks we not act and rue.
But wait till that special flower He sends,
He asks we do nothing we may need make amends.

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Precious Promises

When this world tends to treat me terse,
There are precious promises I rehearse.
This world can be ugly at times,
Over years I've realized this world is not mine.

I'm Pilgrim just passing by,
And will not always live under this sky.
I have a palace set aside above,
Where there is a far greater worship and love.

Now here are daily trials and tribulation,
Anger, fear, guilt, and temptation.
My Lord's everlasting story, and eternal glory,
Just part of the precious promise story.

When you feel this world's foot on your throat,
And family and friends are seemly remote.
Rush beloved to His promises precious,
The scriptures are a place of peace and solace.

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My Beloved

My Beloved, this is a note just to you,
Believe every word because they are true.
When a youth meets the 'love of his life',
He may dare to take her to be his wife.

But is he truly under her spell,
Will he be able to live and love her well?
Or is she a fancy and just a mere toy,
To be cast aside by the boy.

This pair may come from so far apart,
They are two, can they become one heart?
Some will say you should not persist,
Like a leaf in gale to a branch the pair insists.

And so it is Beloved the years have flown by,
Problems like stormy days rush like cloudy skies
There have and will be sunny days to come,
Pleasures by the treasure chest before our days are done.

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Rachel

The story of Rachel is a story of great love,
A story shaped by our Heavenly Father above.
A story of great mystery,
A wonderful story of biblical history.

Of a man in search of the love of his life,
The woman God would provide for a wife.
An epic of a wicked father, who cheated and lied,
A man of faith worked seven years and cried.

When the calendar turned over a fourteenth year,
Jacob would hear Rachel's sweet whisper in his ear.
He would remember a dry and dusty by a well,
And Rachel's beauty as well.

Rachel, to be true to your God is to be true to your self,
Follow the book and gain great spiritual wealth.
You have a natural beauty a delight to behold,
Much like the Rachel of old.

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Monolith

I stand out on the red ochre plain,
Well removed from city suburban train.
I stand where few pale humans appear,
Where water imperative as the sun does sear.

I give comforting shelter a gecko frantic,
As he runs from crevasse to crevasse manic.
A ragged shrub lives within my cracks,
And tourist climb with sun on their backs.

Daylight appears I am black against the sun,
At midday find me brightest red blazon.
Middy afternoon I wear another cloak,
And a ruby mood with hazed lightening smoke.

Evening comes and I'm many shades,
Blues and purples in many grades.
As sun finally sets and I return to black,
While the locals sleep into starlight night I retreat.

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