By Dawn Munro
The Painter
Transfixed, I bow before art's magic splendor
Enraptured by the glory of such hues
Enchanted, charmed beyond all human measure
Possessed by master's clarity of muse
Transported to a scene of worldly wonder
The light expressed within, a living thing
Colors soft to capture mood asunder
And shadows with life's honesty do ring
Inherent are man's feelings and emotion
My joy is touched by tears that gently fall
This beauty is so moving my devotion
Is captured by a canvas on a wall
~~~***~~~
| Author Notes |
The artwork seen here is a very famous painting by Paul Peel, entitled "The Gleaner". It is housed in the Art Gallery Of Ontario, here in Toronto.
The use of capital letters and minimal punctuation is intentional. |
By Dawn Munro
~ Lilac Lace ~
Let me lie under lilac lace.
Embrace my soul and feel my joy.
The tears I've shed were not in vain;
mercy is here, peace to employ.
No sickness now, not wracked with pain;
no sorrow, trial or test of faith,
for vanquished is my enemy:
disease and pain, darkness's wraith.
Bury poor shell 'neath lilac lace.
Embrace my joy and feel my soul.
If tears you shed, they'll be in vain,
for resting here, I'm finally whole.
~~~~~<<>>~~~~~
| Author Notes |
For those with faith, death is nothing to fear.
Video courtesy of YouTube. |
By Dawn Munro
Daybreak
As day begins in honey'd light,
I watch a flock of geese take flight.
They fly formation heading south
o'er field and stream, past river's mouth.
Where in that clearing, such a sight
as day begins in honey'd light!
There stands a doe with speckled fawn,
as muted colors greet the dawn.
And through the grasses, breezes sweep
to wake the mice who soundly sleep.
As day begins in honey'd light,
small creatures scurry out of sight.
For eagle soars with talons spread
and fills his prey with mighty dread -
like gentle rabbit full of fright,
as day begins in honey'd light.
<>~~~~~<>~~~~~<>~~~~~<>~~~~~<>
| Author Notes |
Video courtesy of YouTube.
|
By Dawn Munro
| Author Notes |
The lovely artwork seen adorning this poem is provided by avmurray through FanArt - many thanks for it's use.
Video courtesy of YouTube. |
By Dawn Munro
| Author Notes |
Video courtesy of YouTube.
|
By Dawn Munro
The Stranger
Forlorn I sit and watch them pass him by;
I do my best to not break down and cry.
He's been there now at least three hours or more
and sky is full of winter's frosty hoar.
He'll freeze to death before he'll come inside.
It seems the poor, distinguished man has pride.
I tried to tell him pride will bring him down.
My pleas were met with disapproving frown.
"Without my dignity, where would I be?
The souls who pass me by don't really see.
Their foolish prejudice just makes them blind.
I'm here to help them, gentle heart to find."
I shook my head and left him to his fate.
What could I do, but watch and simply wait?
The crazy kook believed that he was right.
He sat there all day long and through the night.
At last, a stranger stopped and spoke to him.
The tears I'd held inside began to brim.
With gentle hands he guided him to car.
The shelter wasn't really very far.
I prayed that I had done the proper thing,
when suddenly my 'phone began to ring.
"My precious child you've sent him to a home:
the others passed him by with hearts of stone.
Don't question what your mind told you to do,
He'll see the light, as others will, through you.
Sometimes the hardest choices that we make
are ones about which righteous path to take."
With trembling hand, I gripped receiver tight.
It couldn't be! My heart slammed hard with fright.
"Fear not," the voice said gently in my ear,
I haven't come to make my people fear.
But all men surely need to pass the test
so fear and hatred then be put to rest.
You've given all you had and that's my word
embodied like the freedom of the bird.
You know I feed the tiny sparrow too;
so think, my child, how much I must love you.
The easy road's not always for the best,
and at the shelter I will find my rest."
~~~*~~~
| Author Notes |
Who is it that we pass?
|
By Dawn Munro
| Author Notes |
Videos courtesy of YouTube.
|
By Dawn Munro
| Author Notes |
"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." Philippians 4:8
Video courtesy of YouTube. |
By Dawn Munro
By Dawn Munro
The Dove, Symbol of the Holy Spirit
My heart betrays me every week, and sometimes every day,
I do my best to grasp my faith and let it lead the way,
but faith alone can't manage when the images slip in;
my soul is swamped with sorrow, when a child, so free of sin
is taken from the world too soon, through no fault of his own.
My heartbeat pounds objection, and my mind can only moan.
I wonder how it happens that a tragedy can strike,
how fate can let a gangster live, but take away a tyke,
how decent, kind and gentle folk get terrible disease,
and loving pets die suffering, but only live to please;
why wars still happen, famine too, and families break up.
What makes some men in God's own image be so damned corrupt?
Before despair can overtake me, on this very day,
I know the answers lie with Him, and so I'll kneel to pray.
I won't expect the mysteries to be unlocked for me,
but with the strength that prayer instills, at least I know I'll see
injustice where my interference might be of some aid,
where reasoning could influence; where His love might persuade.
I wonder why calamities like hurricanes can strike;
why everyone can't understand that we are all alike?
My heart betrays me every week, but thank God, not today.
I knelt in prayer within my church, and heaven showed the way.
I must accept what I can't change, and praise His Holy Name,
still knowing when the roll is called, we'll learn we're all the same.
We all have burdens in this world - it's not our place to judge.
We must just trust, let go of angst, and never hold a grudge,
be grateful for His mercy and His everlasting love,
be filled with Holy Spirit; take the peace portrayed by Dove.
<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>
| Author Notes |
John 14:1 - 'Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.'
John 14:27 - 'Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.' Videos courtesy of YouTube. |
By Dawn Munro
| Author Notes |
Thank you for reading.
|
By Dawn Munro
When the world is wearisome, full of woe,
there's always a place where we all can go
to rest our burdens, our heads at His feet -
our Jesus, our Saviour is our retreat.
When my friends betray me, and all seems grey,
there's hope to be found if I only pray -
I trust in the Lord, not in man, but God.
He created this world, and in Him I'm awed,
for a single breath sparked my life within,
and He gave His own - washed away my sin.
Praise and thanks I owe, for I can't repay
what He did for me then, and He does today.
When the world is wearisome, full of woe,
I surrender my will, and He helps me grow.
| Author Notes |
As for "life within" - that's my belief, but I don't make judgement calls. Abortion is a contentious issue, and how can it not be? Yes, I am pro-life, but I stress that it is not up to me, not my place to say what anyone else does with their own life, and the life of an unborn child. I will say this, though - I have known more than one person who's had an abortion, but I have never known one who didn't regret it.
Video courtesy of YouTube. |
By Dawn Munro
| Author Notes |
Video courtesy of YouTube. If you prefer to read without music, simply scroll to the bottom left of this video and click the rectangle to stop autoplay. Thanks for reading!
|
By Dawn Munro
Bake healthy and wholesome, quite wonderful bread -
begin with warm water (no, not hot instead).
In a big bowl for mixing, please sprinkle the yeast
right over the water (it's not cold, at least).
Let this mixture stand: five minutes - no more,
then add the sugar, for it is the core
component we add that every loaf needs
so any who eat it are pleased with our deeds.
And just like in life, any bread must have salt,
so toss that in too - and butter, not malt
(though blend in some wheat germ and bran for a 'fix') -
this with the flour we'll add to the mix.
Reserve half a cup of the flour in case
the dough is too sticky. This isn't a race
and you'll find that fingers are really the best
for kneading a dough-ball (though I must confess
those with a mixer adapted for bread
sure beat the heck out of osteo dread.
Though eight to ten minutes of kneading the ball
is good for sore fingers, it raises a squall!
Thank God there's a pause before kneading again -
the dough feels like flesh, but OUR flesh feels the pain!)
When doubled in bulk, punch that fleshy ball down -
dump onto a counter (and try not to frown -
experts agree exercise is the best
when pain of arthritis is being a pest.
Besides, think of every frustration you can
while pounding that dough ball and not your sweet man.)
Now coat your loaf pan with pure olive oil.
Shape up that dough, and know bread doesn't spoil
for several days if you wrap with Saran -
but first you'll be baking that dough in that pan.
Three seventy-five is the temp you will set.
Your loaf pan can wait, covered up, and you'll get
a light-as-air loaf as dough rises again.
Let it sit on the stove-top. Sing a happy refrain
'cause the rest is so easy! You just have to bake!
Then it's out of the oven for all to partake.
Ingredients:
(for one loaf)
1 teaspoon of dry, active yeast
1 cup of warm water (not hot, not cold)
1 tablespoon of white sugar
1/2 tablespoon of salt
2-1/2 - 3 cups of flour (mix in a generous tablespoon each of wheat germ and bran)
4 tablespoons of butter or margarine (melt in a microwave first)
finally...
Lots and lots of love. *the best ingredient in any cooking or baking*
When the bread is golden brown (about 1/2 hour, or even less), remove it from the oven and turn it out of the pan. (It shouldn't stick if you coated the pan well, but if it does, use a butter knife down the sides and ends to remove it.) Brush the loaf all over with butter or margarine and let cool before wrapping or bagging.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
| Author Notes |
With thanks to avmurray for the very appealing artwork seen with this write.
:0) Yes, this is my genuine recipe for bread - I baked a loaf just last night. To make more than one loaf, simply double, triple or quadruple the recipe. (p.s. If we want to go all 'philosophical', yup, there could be some metaphor and/or life lesson herein too... Let your imagination run wild...) *grin* |
By Dawn Munro
This globe is in a tragic state -
corona virus stealing life.
Its devastation won't abate
and mankind's world with pain is rife.
And yet throughout the disbelief
(as if all hope and trust renews),
although in everlasting grief,
a strange thing happens to our views...
We understand that God is love.
We share and care, though far apart.
The church of God is built thereof--
compassion reigning in each heart.
~~
| Author Notes |
Thank you for reading!
|
By Dawn Munro
One Day At A Time
by D Dawn Munro
copyright 2020
Nutritious porridge in a bowl,
a cup of herbal tea -
we're blessed in North America
though some refuse to see.
Most have a home to shelter them
though some aren't satisfied,
but I have seen true poverty,
been there when people cried,
their empty bellies grumbling,
their homes a rustic shack -
I'll share whatever I can share...
How can I turn my back?
I'll offer up my thanks and praise
and hope what's done is best,
and with my Jesus by my side
I know I'll pass God's test.
'The least of these' is like Himself -
I dare not ask Him why,
when there but for the Grace of God,
I'm sure, my friends, go I.
He grants me strength and patience
and will see me through this trial,
protect me from my enemies,
though glittering their guile.
So though the seas might roll and toss,
though lightning streak the sky,
He'll calm the storm - I'll persevere,
and give it one more try.
| Author Notes |
Thank you for reading!
|
By Dawn Munro
Alone at last, she sighs with some relief;
a burden shouldered months beyond her plan!
Yet she could not refuse, for her belief
was he might be no ordinary man.
'Do this for least of these, you do for me,'
was how she lived her life, as best she could.
She shared her humble home, his wretched plea
enough to garner grace; his livelihood
surrendered to the ravages of time.
But mercy granted those whose hearts are stone,
regardless of their living past their prime,
is pity that is wasted; won't atone
for sins that haunt the corners of some minds.
He scorns her care; the Christian love that binds.
|
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