Old Poetry--Catching Up

Well, hello!  It's been a long season since I last posted here and I figure that it's as good a time as any to post a few of the poems that I've written over the past 2 years.  Some were written on my mission and some before, but here they are!  Critique me?

A tattered book gathered dust on a shelf--

An abandoned study of former times

When I was a lad and had great wealth

Of spirit, of world, of body, of mind

I'd read the volume a number of times

And its words had distilled in my being

But as life had enlarged, 'twas set aside

And to its teachings I'd not been cleaving

On finding sad book in such ruined state

I was surprised to find tears in my eyes

Mem'ries rushed that I'd forgotten of late

And my spirit felt both empty and dry

I flipped through its pages, taking courage

When I found saving message still intact

And I hungered with deep desire and urge

For but a singular chance to go back

I spent all day with my torn, tattered friend

And marveled at the things that he taught me--

Error and sin wiped away, made to end--

It was a guide to make one's soul fly free

My pregnant soul could take no more filling

As I sank to my knees, humbly pleading

Help from on high while tears started flowing

And heavy heart began slowly changing

Peace flooded o'er me as I kneeled in prayer

Asking for that which I'd long forgotten

It seemed that the Savior stood with me there

And conceded the grace that I'd gotten

These days, I still have my beat-up old book

Worse for wear now than it had been before

The words contained are the same at first look

But its sweet spirit speaks still volumes more

--C.R.E

I'd offer gold and precious gems

For love engraved on perfect hands

But all He ever asked of men

Was, "Feed my sheep, feed my lambs."

Still, now and then I've wandered blind,

Losing sight of His perfect plan--

Ignoring as His voice reminds

To "Feed His sheep, feed His lambs."

With arms outstretched, He gathers home

A wand'ring flock into His land

And asks that we help do the same
And "Feed His sheep, feed His lambs."

I wondered at the easy way

Forgiveness caused my soul to stand

And I promised there, that very day,

"I'll feed Thy sheep, feed Thy lambs."

--C.R.E.

A mighty tree sprung up just beyond

The window of my humble dwelling

She smelled of springtime and hid my lawn

But I scarcely noted her being

As time went on, I enjoyed her shade

And shelter in days of heavy rain

She became to me a heav'nly glade--

A solace from the world and its pains

I traveled and secured not the tree

Who was left exposed by my leaving

Violent winds came and set the tree free

Hurt, uprooted, and barely breathing

Seeing her plight, a loving young man

Took her up and treated her hurting

Planted anew, he found what I had--

A beautiful tree well-worth loving

Oh my lament at journey's return!

A hole where my tree had been planted?

And but few steps away, I soon learned,

There she stood!  Well-treated and pampered.

My grass had been parched by brill'ant rays

And with no home the birds stopped their song

I walked about in a dizzying daze

As my world felt both empty and wrong

Oh how I would that I'd given more care

To mighty tree who painted my mind
With wealth of mem'ries I'm loath to share

With another soul who I might find

Along life's byways I'll walk until

I touch again those feelings sweet

I felt on those days when I was filled

By her love as I laid at her feet

--C.R.E.

In darker days I found myself
Standing on a haunting hill
Contemplating depths of hell
And pond'ring sin's winter chill

Upon such hill a Man once died--
Or so I'd heard the story told--
They say that He'd been crucified
By wicked men in times of old.

I'd heard it said just as plain
That He had died to make men whole--
Until the men that had Him slain...
He'd suffered it to save their souls.

Reflecting on lackluster past
A phantom shade to eye appeared:
The jaws of hell gaped open fast
And death's drear head t'ward me leered.

The Son of God leapt to my mind
And to my lips His holy name,
"Jesus, I who've lived life blind,
Plead opened eyes and white-washed stains."

All at once dread vision ceased!
The very Heavens seemed to me
To open wide and shed forth peace
And my heart at last was free!

To joyful mind came image of
Glorious God on blazing throne,
Numberless angels singing love,
And Celestial sights--my Heav'nly home!

Oh how my soul longed to sing,
With heart filled near to bursting,
Praises to my God and King
Who granted the light I'd been yearning.

That hill, to me, is haunting no more
And Chirst not simply a story;
A change here was wrought to my very core
And I contemplated Heav'nly Glory.

A Redeemer truly did trod
The pathways of sin's dark designings.
He came to Earth, that Son of God,
To release us from hell's endless pinings.

--C.R.E.

The orchard stretched forth
Our eyes to behold
The sweetest of fruits
On its branches.

The fruit was yet young
Still, many partook
Of the sugar-sweet
Flesh for granted.

But sober young men
With future in mind
Worked with love and care
Through the season.

Abstaining themselves
From semi-sweet fruit--
Happy and fulfilled
For this reason.

They kept well their trees
Awaiting the day
Of ripe fruit prepared
For the eating.

When harvest arrived
They reaped their reward
And ate of the fruit
Of their keeping.

They spoiled their stomachs--
That first group that ate--
With semi-sweet flesh
Not yet ready.

And passed on the joy
Of well-prepared fruit
Caught up in young hearts'
Lustful eddies.

Our lesson is learned:
From semi-sweet, turn!
And enjoy mature fruit in its season.

--C.R.E.

You painted my face with a smile
And swelled fat my hungering soul
With sugary words told in guile
While your presence made me feel whole.

But you're gone now and I am so empty.
You left and I feel incomplete.
I grasp at dead mem'ries left gently
By your parting with sorrow so sweet.

On you I relied far too heav'ly--
I see that now, with sharp pain.
Leaving me brought forth the clar'ty
That my time had been wasted in vain.

I saw you sometime later
Happier than I'd ever seen...
In his arms you truly were better,
In his eyes you flourished a Queen.

I lament the death of our loving
And I still wish for you, at times.
But I know you've grown past my longing
For when with him, your face shines.

Our love was young and untested,
Unable to take storms of life.
It broke me until I was bested
By the man who took you to wife.

I cannot blame either lover;
I'm growing past such pettiness...
But it's hard, at times, to grow older
As my mind dwells on mem'ries of us.

--C.R.E.

Oh say, what is love?

Is it some serendipitous step

Into the heart of another?

Or simply a fulness of joy

When hand meets hand?

Then tell, why the tears?

Was I not gentle, not kind?

Did I not beg the world for you?

Alas, you received it not

And I wept pregnant cries.

Pray, whose are you now?

Or might you belong to none?

Were I to entreat in sweetest words

Would you return to my view?

Or could it be that all is lost?

--C.R.E.

She had a way about her--

A set of mannerisms,

A scent, a gleam

Of furiously blazing

Fire in her soul.

She spoke of things

With words I'd

Never realized

And a passion more tangible

Than her acorn hair.

Her eyes belied some deeper

Pain--

Scarcely hidden by

Her glorious smile

And framed brilliantly

By her insecurities.

I loved her truly--

Then and now--

But never found a way

To keep her in sight.

Brown-eyed angel,

Dearest friend,

Beautiful love...

I hope to find you again.

--C.R.E.

Speak no more mindless flattery

To a soul who never bought it.

Tell no more of my brilliance,

Which, in truth, is as the stars far-off.

Your words were always empty--

But I hungered for them.

Indeed, at times, I was a planet

And you my Sun--only vaguely aware

Of my orbit while I would not

Have had a purpose without you.

Your tongue help only compliments

That I never believed, but lived for...

Because they were born in you.

But now, speak truth to me!

Gone are the lies of your "love".

Angel...  What do you truly believe?

Tell not that it all rang true--

I'm not quite that simple--

When, shortly, you were his.

Don't say that you still treasure

The times we spent hand in hand...

For I do and see none of

What I feel in your eyes or smile.

What was it to you?  Mere fancy?

A game of sorts or a way to pass time?

To me it was life and joy.

And now, though only shadows remain

And the words were so empty...

They're all I have of us.

--C.R.E.