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"Writer's Canvas"
"He speaks"
"Reflection from the Cross""Charmie's Inkless Diary"
"The picnic"
"Russian Pettal"
Writer’s Canvas Easel propped In this brain, I smell the balm of God's well, The author's oils of verse- Mind to heart Brush to page. Read its dainties- Taste the bitters! Pen- The silent dictum The flowered creed~ A sojourn's picnic, From petits fours To portly feast. Shade- The cutters edge, In poignant sting, Blue velvet blood From tears palette Of hidden pain. Hands dance Each eloquent utter~ Tint the joys Life's collage- Dreams, whims- Visions mapped Like papyrus scrolls Swept ashore. Too deeply felt, The scalpel moves. Mixing the shades From once lost love-found, Igniting flames Sets fire to thought Then cools from Unbridled ardor; Embrace- The inked drama, The write- The adoring Inspiration!©1999Zeal
He Speaks Says He, ‘In this world to you are ~ backs of skies only I’ve seen, places you have never been Sun to glorify each hair, On your head that I placed there- Stars to sink your heart at night Bewilder you upon the sight~ Seasons for the changing you When depression can ensue- Wind to thrust a breath of thought To the child whose soul I bought Oceans, immense, for your thrill- salty waters that can heal Trees, to cool during your stay- In its pose-show how to pray Honeysuckle marmalade spun from bees in late day shade. Animals and birds above for you to watch and see my love- Speak to me, O’child, do tell! Do you like it very well? Says I, “Oh, but there is just no word that I feel or ears have heard, for in this mesmerizing earth, I’ll not touch all, for in its worth, I look at night’s all LOVING eye, and I still sin- Oh, my Dare I? “Glorify your name in all the earth” ©2001Zeal
Reflection From The Cross While in the mirror, tonight I saw Someone else who looks within The forgiveness, by God, with awe- And without condition, all the sin. Long as I know my Saviour’s cross And surrendered the unmeasured all, I join His heart for all my loss To follow His most beckoned call. I could hold back, but oh! His face- And in His eyes, all my disgrace, But, in me, He sees His Son’s full share, And not the nails which pierced Him there! ©2000Zealberry back to the top
Charmie’s Inkless Diary She craved to be a servant first (As in Matthew 6:4) Then go before her Lord in prayer behind her sacred door. But seeing that writing her thoughts had helped her change inside, She chose a pen without real ink to put her “self” aside. Each day she’d go inside her room and fell upon her knees, And in her diary that she wrote were listed all her pleas. One day her faithless grandpa had tripped right to the floor, And fell upon the diary she’d left close to the door. He made his way back to the couch where through the book he read A lot of empty pages, so placed it down instead. But as he lay it near the lamp, and when the pages bent, He held it up in front of light and saw some faded print. It said: “Dear Lord, I thank you so, for giving me these hands To write how much I love you Instead of my demands. I thank you for my seeing eyes so other once can see How your Son Jesus changed this heart transforming most of me.” “I thank you for this time I have to write for only you, words that come from my soul alone and in your view. But if you please, there’s just one thing, as best as I can tell, I want grandpa before he dies, to choose your Son as well.” Before he kept on reading, like through his heart a sword, He fell upon the bended knees and spoke with Charmie’s Lord. He witnessed Charmie’s life through faith and by these prayers divine, It took an ‘inkless’ journal to read between the lines! ©2000Zealberry
The Picnic
It wasn’t like the other ones
From very long ago,
We didn’t take fried chicken
Nor borrowed fishing pole.
There weren’t any children’s
Inflated balls to toss,
Uncles, aunts or cousins
Or planks to walk across.
No beer-bellied bald men
Or calico-dressed maids
Toddlers in soiled diapers
No pinball fun arcades.
We had only five of us
Whose interests were in line,
Some articles and stories
To share, instead of wine.
Spontaneous injections
Of artsy fun and flair
Quotes from famous movies
A song or two to share.
The picnic table varied
With fruits and veggie tastes,
The famous writer centered
The table with a vase.
And while her husband quarreled
With tales of long ago,
A ‘hush!’ left us submitted-
Respectfully we’d show.
While poetry’s recited,
Laughs to jokes were said,
Clever little punch lines
From shows or things we’d read.
Harvesting this golden time
Of such a picnic rare,
The ride so good to and from
Was equally as fair.
From this day forward picnics
Could never be the same;
When company that fits so well
Plays this special game.
As God foreset this joining
For unique folks--no price.
With talents and its treasures
For me was twice as nice!
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Russian Petal
In she flows from the northwest winds
Within the droplets of seeding snows
Thrusts and warms to southern skies,
She falls~
Here, she blows in fragrant scent
And like sweetened honey-dew, savors she-
God's garden and the neighbor'ing plants
She calls~
From the bulb-she dances free
The beauty of her singleness
Through her loved expedience
She prays~
How is it that this rose petite
Should pass through my field
Only through God's breath and song
She plays~
Wherever the Russian beauty floats
Her feathered flight takes wings
In a friend's hearts to those
She knows~
~a light and velvet petal
Is she
glad I know her,
And she-
Knows me!
2002 M. Dianne Berry
