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A Gentle Word

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FC: A GENTLE WORD | By Sandra Nixon Swofford

3: A Dedication Oh, gentle soul, whose heart is overflowing, Beware of all the harm that man can do. Trust only in the right that you are knowing, And never offer less than what is due. A tender heart that hurts at any wronging, A stronger soul than this no man can vow. Such good as this should not be ever wanting. For courtiers to follow him, as now. Lead us , kind and gentle man of learning, Direct us in the way to trust and share. The light that in your heart , is burning Emits a glow of love for all to share.

5: POEMS | ALWAYS My wish is that, someday there'll be An "Always" Place for you and me. I dream of days when I may say, "Come, give me love, don't run away." I pray that I will find this place Where love is free and we may face Each coming dawn with tender smiles And gentle touches for awhile. If such a place, one day I find, I'll dream you there, you'll fill my mind And soul and heart, with tenderness, And I shall give you happiness

6: DEAD END All that I had is gone. I am alone, and dying. My life is void of living now. My heart is done with crying. I feel no shame, no sorrow. What I have done is through. I cannot turn my life around, It's much too late to do. So many years have passed. The pains and hurts remain. Life is much too hard to face. I cannot bear the strain. Forgive me, please, for what I do. There is no other way. I must find life, somehow, sometime, Lest I, too, slip away.

7: ANGEL OF DEATH Angel of death, I hear thee not. My heart is closed to thee. Though days of youth are long since gone, Tarry not over me. I am not willing to go thy way. I seek no paradise. I only wish to live on here, To drink my fill of life. I shall not harken to your call! Allow me, yet again, To go my way this one more time, Before I am detained. Grant me this, that I may do, The many things before me. Angel of Death, I must have time, Before you hover o'er me. All that I ask is some time more, To finish what I've started. I wish to see my loved ones well, E're we're forever parted.

9: NIGHT Silently, on padded feet I hear the night approach. I feel the very essence of Deep velvet falling 'round me, Lovely and magnificent as a broach. A stillness soft as silken hair as quiet as a touch; A sleeping heart awakens, Longing for a tenderness, Yearning for a touch. Sweetly scented darkness; free and fragrant air, Surround me with no binding wall But only fill my very soul with Peace and love to share. I wander deep in darkness, Ever searching for the light. I stumble, falling deeper- Ever deeper in the night.

11: Winter | Winter is awareness Of Nature all around. Winter is alertness Of every earthly sound. Winter is a closeness Of each of us to another. Winter is a wonderful thing That draws us to our brother. | The air is clear and sharp. The breeze is cool and strong. A winter bird calls to his mate, She answers with a song. Heaven is so very near In all that one can see. A closeness to all of nature Is winter's gift to me. | Clouded skies, flooded lanes Snow topped roofs and window panes, Frosty noses, red tipped ears, Know one and all that winter is here.

13: Down, down upon the ground Leaves are swirling 'round and 'round. Grasses turning fast to brown As Autumn comes again. The trees are standing stark and bare, A chill is in the evening air. There is no beauty here to share, I feel the cold within. Through silent days and empty nights I watch and wait for summer's light. Is there no end to winter's blight? Come quickly, gentle spring. | The fallen leaves lay withered, dying. The soft carpet gone, a brownness remains. The wind whistles 'round about, moaning, whining, Winter time changes every domain.

14: Where is the spring , all fresh and green? Where are the flowers gay? The gentle rains and cooling breeze Have yet to come our way. How long will this time go on Of bitter cold and gray? I wait, a bit too anxiously: Let spring be on it's way.

15: Love | Love is nearness, Love is warmth Close together, in body and heart. Love is being, each to the other. Love is a oneness, never apart. | Love is nothing; Love is gone Never to touch an aching heart Or soothe a tortured mind. Never to fill the void within the soul, Never to free a captured being. Love is not important, nor is life. Only a day to day existence, year to year, century to century. Never ending is life, only a going on and on of pain and agony. | Suffer not, for ye shall find An answer to your heartache. Cease to pine for what has been. Look only to what a dream may be, And find a life for all.

16: Thoughts | Search as you will, but you shall not find that which you seek. One who spends his lifetime seeking nothing, finds all that such a soul could desire. While he also searches for endless quiet moments and tender times , finds only trouble and unhappy periods through which he must travel. Perhaps if one could only have a time to himself and, thereby, regain a symbolism of order to his state of mind, but such a time is not to be found so easily for one who seeks tranquility and peace for all time. Be it as it may, a goal is not to be achieved by any soul who desires it greatly. As for myself, I seek only one moment of total fulfillment, that I may release my soul from the pit of black that now engulfs it and prevents my heart from knowing what it's all about. I desire but a short and tender time for myself alone, to draw into myself and know what it is to be for me, and that I may accept that which I must,with whatever strength I yet possess. Soon what small manner of self-ownership I know, shall slip away and I shall be gone into oblivion.

17: The coming of winter brings one's natural senses to the fore. One sees beauty in the green that is left to contrast the dying leaves, to attest that spring is always near. One smells the settling in, the closeness that comes when the air gets crisps and the wind draws all living things into themselves. One feels the warmth of the fire in the home and the deeper warmth of being drawn together by the chill. One hears the winter bird, his song sharp and trilling, the joy of the season filling the winter air. Winter makes one alert to the closeness of all things and the nearness of heaven. Touchable things become more real, the intangible dreams become almost actuality. | Say once to me a gentle word and I shall want no more. A smile will make a bad day fine, a touch of hands , a tender glance will make my heart overflow. Just to think of kindness shared and happy thoughts made as one, all these things are beyond me, but are always to be dreamed upon by one as alone as I.

18: What is it in the cause of things that makes existence hard? Why must all that one wishes, be out of reach, and what one can accomplish, be so much less than the dream that was the reality of youth? When plans are made and dreams are formed, a star is near and real, but as one learns that life is not a plan or a dream, but a cruel and senseless being, a star can quickly fall away, perhaps even become an evil and hurting reminder of the happiness and innocent trusting of a child's rosy world. Alas, one can not go forward by turning back to thoughts that were before and dreams that are not to be remembered without the ache of hopelessness. Go on then, with only the desire to make the best of what is, and take what rewards there are to be had and whatever pains that be, with a hope that the future will bring something more easily withstood. | A broken heart heals not so easily, and one is apt to feel the pangs of hurt for a long time. Though cause there be for regret and sorrow, one cannot dwell on what there was of life, but must go on to face each darkened day and weep alone, for none there be to harken to a sad and broken soul.

19: MY JOY 1-28-2013 | Come share with me A thing most dear. Come feel the joy begin. Look out upon The way so clear. The path to peace within. Come share with me And you will find The love of God abounds In every thought and touch and smile With beauty all around. The thanks I give With every breath I share with all who know The wonder of life's perfect bliss Gives each the strength to grow. There are no barriers too great. There are no walls too high, To keep us from That destined Gate Our Home beyond the sky.

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Penny Brawley
  • By: Penny B.
  • Joined: about 6 years ago
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About This Mixbook

  • Title: A Gentle Word
  • Poetry
  • Tags: poetry
  • Published: almost 5 years ago