Poetry

Wheatscape

Never did it really show.
The way it’s form or presence grows.
Nor how it saw or how it knows.
The season when it turned to gold.

For so it is a windtone knows.
And flows to see the place it grows.
To share the life that lies within.
The true direction of the wind.

To make it clear and evershow.
A touch and texture no man knows.
For the hand that measured where it is.
Shall always keep the Glory His.

And there the tune that clearly plays.
Will comfort every stalk and blade.
And hear within the sun or shade.
The hand that measured what was made.

For there the windtone always brings.
And shows the place and life that sings.
With radiant Glory there to show.
The season when it turned to gold.

Doug Foust

firewinddove@yahoo.com

Peace

A poem by Patricia Mary Saunders

Let peace be your umpire
It says in God’s word!-
So listen and see
If his whistle you heard!

Feeling frustrated?
Confused? Or just sad?
Find peace in your heart
And you will feel glad!

Whatsoever is just
And noble and pure
Think on these things
And bad times you’ll endure!

Take your mind off the problem
Look up to the Lord
Reach for the Bible
And find in his word

All of his promises
Faithful and true
Let hope spring again
As the words speak to you.

Then go on your way
With a lilt in your heart
Give Him your cares
And a new peace will start.

So if peace you have lost-
Go seek God again
And find in His presence
That peace will remain.

Copyright 2005

Taken By Permission from” Poems for quiet days and Sundays”
HoldFast Tunbridge Wells, England.
http://www.holdfast.org.uk/

© Copyright Watchmen in the West 2007