Catch It #devotion #football #poetry

Toss determines the start

a mere flip a coin falls

snap into another’s hands

numbers roll with the ball

so much rests on a moment

but you will never see the heart

as man looks at appearance

God sees past the start

all the money in your grasp

can’t be measured against the stars

“what are they playing for?” a child asks

 

“The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”

1 Samuel 16:7

 

Luke 16:15
He said to them, “You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of others, but God knows your hearts. What people value highly is detestable in God’s sight.

John 8:15
You judge by human standards; I pass judgment on no one.

 

I love watching football but over the years the love for the game, the athleticism, the challenge has been tainted by the money for the players and for the sponsors. Saying that, I hope your heart is touched by this lost puppy Budweiser ad.

Advertisement

Drawn Together… #oneshotwednesday #poetry

My first sweep of your jawline

a shade around your nose

caught on your eyes

what happened who knows

**

I sketched until dawn

a face that I’d rendered

then why were my lips

shaking and tender

***

I peered deeper

you looked back at me

what had I done

had I set my love free?

**

To settle on a face

the one of my dreams

Oh what a fool

to believe in such schemes

**

I continued to draw

each night until dawn

nothing changed

what had gone wrong?

***

Hearing a sound

before the sun rose

a knock on the door

could it be? I don’t know

***

There you stood

rays circling your face

the man in my drawing

it was you in this place

I recently started drawing again. I have spent hours, days on a face. I imagined what it would be like to draw someone into existence ~ Voila!

It is celebration time – One Stop Poetry is one year old. Join the talented community of poets – share your work with us today!

Dave Kleinschmidt http://www.flickr.com/photos/dklein/20383096/

What will this day hold??? (One Shot Poetry)

On this day

I am faced

with a barrage

of questions …

Who is that  in the mirror?

How can it be?

How did I get here?

Is the little girl a woman now??

I was in a  dream

dressed in white

long dark hair

on top of my head

I wore  a veil

the scent of flowers

wafted in the breeze

***

A man was there

looked into my eyes

his smile took my fears away

our hands

were joined

***

I turn from the girl

face the  man

We say

“I do”

**

My questions are answered

The girl  is no more

the woman is held close

in the arms of the man

she loves.

****

I hope you enjoy the photography of my friend Florin. Go to his website to see is gallery

http://florindesign.com/index.html

Yes it’s another day to celebrate great poetry at One Shot Wednesday. Please come join in the fun.

www

From Boy To Man (guest poet Pete Marshall)

In time was once

A youthful man

Who raised his love

With tender hands

But love can die

In drudging style

As children spurn

Their shattered dreams.

Whilst lust withholds

A strangled whim

That tore through souls

And tortured him

He yearned & ached

For wanton things

Yet lost his life

In search of thee.

History speaks

Of journeys past

And those who walk

A lonely path

And as the moon

Is led away

Enslaved by dawn

This waking day

He looks out far

Across the blue

In thought of times

He doubted you.

The sun bore down

On ragged cliffs

As grass turned brown

In shaded crags

And winds tore through

His withered bones

As dryness scorched

His ravaged lips.

Gulls that cried

& rode the breeze

And tears that spat

On fallen leaves

On sodden ground

Which once was green

Friends spoke words

That drove him on.

As light seeps in

& journeys far

Through open mouth

Beyond the depths

It travels down

To hold the root

Of ravaged doubts

And masked regrets.

Whilst friends would lead

Their merry lives

You looked beyond

Your loving wife

And spat a taste

Of foul disease

That sneered at life

And all you see.

Now as you stand

Upon this cliff

And count the flags

That gently bob

That mark the traps

Ensnared by Man

For those who trace

Their lobster pots

A chilling breeze

Will wake a tree

That stirs & drops

Its weary leaves

A voice is hushed

But fraught in tones

From boy to man

You walk alone.

***

Thank you to Pete Marshall for sharing his beautiful poem on my site. Go to http://petemarshall1.wordpress.com

Thanks to quinn.anya for the photograph “Man Alone”