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"Dawn's Favorite Poems, Vol. 4"


Chapter 1
Am I Loved

By Dawn Munro


His face was wreathed in smiles as I walked in,
and loving anyone is not a sin.
Those sparkling eyes that spoke to me of care
were reason, good enough, that I'd be there.

He made me laugh when last we met - so sweet -
the kind of joy that sweeps me off my feet.
Good friend or lover - either one is fine.
But if it's in God's plan, he'll soon be mine.

A reason to look forward to my day,
this man who's unafraid to kneel and pray.
Intelligent and talented is he...
I hope he feels the spark he lights in me.

The nights have been so long, and he is strong!
The kind of man I've hoped would come along.

Author Notes


Chapter 2
Bird of Paradise

By Dawn Munro

 
 
Bird of Paradise
by Deborah Dawn Munro
~2019~

I long for affection – my body’s on fire.
The man is perfection – a woman’s desire.
I dare not engage in some platonic hug --
mere brush of his hand and my mind would unplug…
A magical, beautiful bond we do share --
a union of spirits adrift on soft air.
 
No, I wouldn’t alter one aspect of him…
But surely his celibacy is a sin,
for when he inhabits my dreams every night
such tender lovemaking resembles the flight
of heaven’s spectacular, glorious bird --
exotic, untouchable – so damned absurd!
 
God knows how I yearn for this man’s gentle kiss…
Bestowed it would bring me such unequaled bliss!
Yet I must live celibate all of my life,
for nothing compares to how blessed, as his wife
is every bright day, every moment of time –
devotion to God in a man is sublime.

~<><><>~ 

Author Notes What can I say, friends? Blame it on summer's heat. *smile* Thank you for reading.


Chapter 3
Those Ocean Eyes

By Dawn Munro


I've never fallen from a height like this;
it's an eagle's nest on a mountain top.
While the home I've found in him might be bliss,
I am scared, so scared of a dreadful drop.

All that passion flames like a burning bush,
but it's not desire; it's his righteous drive.
An inerrant aim with his tender push,
makes me wonder if e'er I will survive

this plunge into eyes like a crystal sea.
Obsessively mine, though he's not at all,
I dream of a touch that's not meant to be
and I curse the damn fates that bade me fall.

How I love this man! I would die for him!
But I'm thanking God I know how to swim.

~*~

Author Notes Inspired by the song -- (Thank you for reading.)


Chapter 4
There Is No Match For You

By Dawn Munro


Is he witty, wise and wonderful -
compassionate and cute?
Does he stand up for my character -
a lack of it refute?

Is he open-minded, gentle and
a clown when I am sad?
Does he tell me that I'm talented,
and when my pain is bad,

stand patiently to wait for me,
to help me keep my feet?
Do tears make him extend his heart
or quickly beat retreat?
~~~

I know you love me as a friend,
but I'm in love with you,
and though I should be wiser there's
not one thing I can do.

Your strength and charm have won my heart
and I don't want it back.
There's only one thing missing - your
sweet touch is all I lack.

This cross I bear is heavy, but
I guess it's meant to be,
and I am stronger than I look
as long as God loves me.

 

Author Notes


Chapter 5
Read God's Word

By Dawn Munro



When in men's hearts there is no peace,
how can there be sweet light?
All joy is lost to dark's abyss -
a most distressing plight.

For hope is lost when staring
into shadows rife with sin,
and lustre that is life itself
must surely start to dim!

God's word is where our peace is found -
the truth about all things.
And when it's read and understood,
it's grace that gospel brings.

~~

Author Notes Thank you for reading!

I have a little story to share about my beat-up Bible and Christmas. There was only one gift I really wanted for Christmas -- a new Bible. A friend invited me to attend a Christmas dinner with her, and I'd already declined several of her invitations in past. In good conscience, I simply could not say no again -- she's a lovely person, so I went to the dinner...

Guess what was given out along with the turkey meal... Yes, you guessed it -- a Bible. :)


Chapter 6
What Christmas Means To Me

By Dawn Munro


The silence of a midnight snow that blankets all the earth,
the sparkle of each flake 'neath city lights,
and far away the chiming of church bells to call to mass
the faithful - that to me is what delights.

For on this day so long ago, a virgin gave consent -
God's messenger appeared to voice God's plan.
Sweet Mary would be mother to His form within her womb,
and God become the precious Son of man.

Why would He grant forgiveness for the wickedness we do?
How could He love us when we loved Him not?
What parent does not love his children, made to be like him?
And so on earth God's love was then begot.

What Christmas means to me is not a decorated tree,
or glitter on a package tied with bows -
it celebrates the birth of One who at His own great cost
does save me from the wicked paths I chose.

They call him Jesus, Lamb of God, Redeemer, Counselor -
He's in the world to save us from our sins.
And we should sing His praises just as long as e'er we can -
for Paradise is where true life begins.

Author Notes Yes. I meant line 18. Jesus lives in the hearts of those who believe in Him.

Thank you for reading.


Chapter 7
Where Does Time Go

By Dawn Munro

The answer lies far out in space -
barely a trace
of love-filled days
in memory's haze

as we all cling to youth and joy,
become a boy
as in our dreams.
Twice young it seems

to challenge all time steals away -
the light of day.
It's twilight's trick
for life's quick tick.


Chapter 8
Crop Over Love (Barbados)

By Dawn Munro


I can hear the rush of wind that rustles fronds,
and taste the salty air upon my lips -
to feel the ocean's pulse, my heart responds,
while steel drums start a rhythm for my hips.

The beat is strong, the music's colors sing -
together we have worked toward this end.
The money that the sugar cane will bring
makes every farmer everybody's friend.

Calypso celebrates the island's charm,
its people and the grace of joyful dance.
While seldom is there rest upon the farm,
when over, we have time for sweet romance.
~*~

Author Notes Thank you for reading! Please enjoy some calypso music:





Chapter 9
Broken Bond

By Dawn Munro


my back so bare
it bleeds my care,
preferring truth to lies -

with Him I rise
though knife sinks to the bone.

I'll travel on alone.

my silent shout was to your face -
a trace of past remembrances
I wrote to leave behind

remind me - broken trust
is naught but dust
to shake off of my heels

as blood congeals.

I will not be deceived
but I am not believed

so mile upon a treacherous mile
I smile, in spite of pain
because again -

I have a friend...

though you pretend
two faces don't disgrace,
I will replace the ending -

feast on love's repast

and pray this pain won't last.

~~

Author Notes Wait for it... (and thank you for reading!)


Chapter 10
Broken Doll

By Dawn Munro


She lacks the social skills to make new friends,
and so she smiles and prettily pretends
that she's content and happy on her own,
when really she is hurting to the bone.

She says it's only been a dozen years
that isolation brought about her tears.
But really it's been more like thirty-two.
She grew reclusive after meeting you.

Your own desire to have her as your wife
cut confidence in half, much like a knife
that's heated on a stove can cauterize -
but women aren't some kind of worthless prize

and should be treated carefully. When wooed
the truth must not be hidden. It's so rude
to think that all the answers lie with you -
that she'd be happy being one of two.

Perhaps you were her soulmate - then again
one second's indecision caused such pain!
And all because you meant to make her see
beyond the curtain - mock reality.

So half her life's been misery, not joy.
A woman isn't someone's wind-up toy.
We're equals, and deserving of respect
and little's left but time - my life's been wrecked.

Yes, "she" is "me", a sorry, old recluse -
too awkward, shy and hurt to be of use.
~~.

Author Notes "Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended.Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you." L. T. Knost

Award-winning author, feminist, and social justice activist, L.R.Knost, is the founder and director of the children's rights advocacy and family consulting group, Little Hearts/Gentle Parenting Resources, and Editor-in-Chief of Holistic Parenting Magazine. Her work has been quoted from Hollywood to D.C. to South Africa, most notably in an address on children's rights to the South African Parliament by the Minister of Justice. She lives in Central Florida with her husband and the youngest four of her six children.


Chapter 11
Forsake Me Not

By Dawn Munro


Forsake Me Not


Tell the rose to stop its blooming, and the stars to halt their shine,
ask the sea to cease its rolling, lest the tide profess you're mine.
Call the wind to brew a tempest; darken skies to match my fate,
for without you here beside me, hurt and anguish won't abate.

Stop the sun from ever blazing; make the moon refuse to rise.
I can't bear that I am losing what I once saw in your eyes.
There's a season for each journey, and without you, mine is done.
How my nights will ever linger if I've lost the only one

who did promise that he loved me; gave his heart to set me free.
Summon power from the heavens; beg the angels come for me
if you tell me that it's over, say my love is just in vain.
Let the vine begin to wither, and the colours start to wane

from a rainbow and a meadow. Kill the deer, and slay the fox.
Stop the nightingale's sweet singing, halt the world; arrest the clocks.
Oh, the brook will cease its babble, all the planets not align
if forever you forsake me, my beloved Valentine!

No, our story can't be over, for I need you more than air!
Speak the words of your devotion, save my soul from this despair.
Tell the lily of the valley that its scent will taint your lie!
Please don't say that you don't love me, for without you, I shall die.


Author Notes This poem actually has many more reviews, but because of my mistake (entering it in the Valentine's Poetry contest, which calls for an acrostic - I didn't check the contest first), it now has had to start over. Consequently, the ACROSTIC (Kill Cupid, He Picked Me a Loser) has much fewer reviews. Announcements had already gone out for Forsake Me Not. But Tom advised me to edit if I wanted to still have an entry for the contest because the system wouldn't allow a different entry if he just pulled this one.
Thank you for reading. Sorry for any inconvenience.


Chapter 12
Heaven Cries

By Dawn Munro


Heaven Cries
by Deborah Dawn Munro
copyright 2020

She often walks where others fear to tread,
so full of love to share, and humble too,
yet understanding of what others dread --
that inner peace attracts chaotic brew

of jealousy, and insecurity.
It's tragic! There is love enough for all!
The Master does not see propriety
in judging one another -- He will call

upon specific talents for each task,
and ev'ry saint and angel has his own.
She knows this, and she sees behind the mask,
and so she is tormented, for the throne

of God must seat His servants whole --
they're equal, His love blessing ev'ry soul.

Author Notes Thank you for reading! This will be in the new book of spiritual poetry planned for 2020. (My New Year's resolution this year was to finish at least three books.*grin*) I was asked, too, at my book club, how I was progressing... Yikes! At least one member is holding me to my promise. (LOL)

I think you'll enjoy this video also -- it's new to me, and I loved it! (Courtesy of YouTube, of course.)


Chapter 13
He Is Constant

By Dawn Munro

He Is Constant

I'm sixty-eight years old tomorrow--earned each grey-ing hair.
Add hashtag, "Me too", long ago--yes--trouble in the air.
Been bullied and betrayed by people I believed were friends,
but I have one who's always kind--whose loving always mends

the heart that this world breaks in two, the soul that screams, "Not I!"
He lends me strength when I have none--He urges me to try.
I rise and rise again because I have that special friend,
and He's the one I count on now, and will until the end.

My eyes are on His cross and 'though my vision sometimes blurs,
I'm one of His lost sheep, those times, and I know He prefers
I subjugate self-pity--trudge His path--although I'm blind,
and each time that I know His will, it's heaven's door I find.
~~

Author Notes Thank you for reading.


Chapter 15
Amethyst Is Hard; So Is Life

By Dawn Munro


Amethyst Is Hard
by Dawn Munro
copyright 2020


How sure are you that I am 'dead'?
That I don't 'hear' what's in your head?
Perhaps if YOU heard ALL that's 'said'
your heart might then be full of dread.

I live my life as best I can,
not knowing God's most wondrous plan,
just trusting he loves EV'RY man
and has since ev'ry life began.

True righteousness? Humility.
So please, I plead -- stop judging me!
From all my sin I've been set free
by God's own Son -- eternity

belongs to those who follow Him.
My cup is filled up to the brim
and overflows with love. I swim
through muck and mire when you are grim.

Like amethyst, a precious stone,
my trust is strong, has truly grown
with ev'ry sacred Word that's sown...
There's LOTS of room around His throne

and I will worship 'til I die!
I NEED my church -- will you not try
to mind your business -- tell me why
you're envious? It makes me cry

because I'd like us to be friends,
but if we can't (and it depends
upon your willingness to cleanse
your heart of pride that only lends

itself to harm for all of us.
I'd like to think we could discuss
this jealousy without a fuss...)
You're more 'chosen'? Perfidious

is thinking so! You must let go --
let fellowship among us flow,
for like my birthstone, I might 'glow'...
but you court wrath that I could show.
~~

Author Notes Amethyst is a purple variety of the Quartz family of crystals. It is a semiprecious stone, and the birthstone for February.

It sits at a 7 on the Mohs Scale of Hardness, and is likely the single most recognized gemstone on the planet.

The story:

This person (a fellow member of my church) hurt a dear friend of mine a while back, telling my friend that I was offended when she demonstrated affection.

I can speak for myself. And I do not believe it was for my benefit that this person spoke up, either (without my knowledge, consent or request). There IS such a thing as too MUCH self-righteousness. It took some serious apologizing on my part (although there was really nothing to apologize FOR) to mend the rift caused.

I am a patient person, but I AM just a person, and there are boundaries that I will not allow to be crossed. (I am 68, not 16, and I mind my own business UNLESS I can TRULY, ALTRUISTICALLY be of help to someone.) Getting in the way of true kinship is one of those boundaries.

I am also a very forgiving person. But I AM amethyst, or to use another analogy, I have been 'forged' -- am being forged daily (CURRENTLY).

1) Have I sorrow? 2) Do I SEEM weak at times?

1) Probably more than my share... ("poor,pity me"... I prefer to keep complaining to a minimum...)
2) Damn right, I AM weak -- but I am also strengthened by the yoke I gladly and gratefully wear.

(If I need help, I am not ashamed to ask for it.)


Chapter 16
He's Mine!

By Dawn Munro



He's Mine!
by Prissy's friend (actually,it was by my Mom)
("Help! I think I've been isolated too long...")

I'm a little laid-back kitty
chowing down some itty-bitty
pieces of delicious nibbles -
so much better than cat kibbles!

Bladder stones don't form with water
in my food, and I'm the daughter
of a front line, handsome doctor
who asked me to be his proctor.

So I really must stay healthy.
Dr. Dad is cute and wealthy.
There are many smart gold-diggers
who own dogs, and they're the triggers

for a puss to scat and scurry
off to hide - who needs the worry?
I'm a doctor's laid-back kitty -
quarantined, but I'm so pretty

all coronavirus beauties
can't snag Dad. He has cat duties.

 

Author Notes Thank you for reading. Your afternoon giggle --


Chapter 17
Give In

By Dawn Munro


Give In

Oh, what desp'rate measures, still.
You harbor such intense ill will!
What comfort can I offer you?
Shall I pretend to think it's true

you can't let go of lies and spite?
You might discover endless night
is really not without an end -
in fact, you might have found a friend.

In spite of what transpires now
I have no wish to disavow
my sacred promise made to you.
I know what you have suffered through.

But you must simply speak and share
if anyone's to have a care.
Let go! Let love encompass you.
I promise you'll be happy, too,

when you no longer feel alone -
as if in some way you atone
for things that weren't your fault at all.
To rise again, you first must fall.

The web we spin with all our lies,
traps heart and soul 'til we despise
the very one who's our BEST friend -
a mirror image can't pretend.

~~~

Author Notes


Chapter 18
Love's Ashes

By Dawn Munro


Love's Ashes

Too many secrets now revealed.
Some dreams are better left concealed,
so I, embarrassed, shall retire -
effects of this love are too dire.

Had I but known he was not straight,
his damned allure, it would negate.
I can't believe he could not say!
Too late, I learned that he was gay

and I had given him my heart!
If I had known right from the start
he wishes not to be my friend...
My hope and joy are at an end.

My 'good friend' loves me? I think not.
With chronic pain my life is fraught
and sharpened now by this despair -
my trust in fate? Beyond repair.

I stayed around so none would see
the passion this man roused in me.
But charm should never be to blame
for lighting such enduring flame...

Can rivers halt a tidal flow?
A meadow lark become a crow?
Love freely given is not brash,
though hope for me? Now fire's ash.
~*~

Author Notes


Chapter 19
Hanging... By A Thread

By Dawn Munro


Hanging... By A Thread


I'm tired of living in survival mode.
I know I ruined my life - what's one more sin?
You call me up to tell me markets slowed.
I feel your sorrow buried deep within.

I have no hidden nest egg - not okay!
I live in one room down on pauper's row.
A million dollars lost in just one day?
I wish I owned a millionth of your dough.

Dear brother, can't you see the awful cost
each time you phone, and unintended, boast?
The little ground I've gained is always lost -
I'm almost ready to give up the ghost.

Instead I guess I'll leave to go to church.
With worship, I can often find my smile.
The strangers there might help me with my search -
a way to bridge our gap and lose my guile.

I know I should not envy my own blood!
I'm rarely less than joyous for my kin.
But when depression hits, it's like a flood,
and I feel like I'll never, ever win.
~~

Author Notes Luke 9:62 - "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."

James 1:8 - "A double minded man is unstable in all his ways."

I know my brother didn't/doesn't really call to boast. He has his own family to look after, and he does -- splendidly. He's stepped up for me many times too. Still, it's hard to hear about losses in the hundreds of thousands of dollars when you're living on less than your sibling spends on a chair for his office. (Ouch!) But he has been amazingly generous with me my whole life -- and after all, he owes me nothing.

Covid19 has affected us all in so many ways, although not contracting the virus is the most important thing -- we are blessed in my family. Somehow I believe ALL our economies WILL recover. But I still feel sad for my hard-working brother, and at times, for myself. It's difficult to keep saying I'm fine, pretending I don't get in a funk sometimes. But as a Christian, I know I shouldn't.

I guess that's the thing about the lifestyles of those who are financially comfortable though. It's just hard for them to imagine how it is to be only scraping by.

I love my brother dearly, and he worries too much as it is, so this is one area of my character I have to work on... (I think, perhaps, he 'picks up' on my mood.) Yet, my 'mood' isn't often, and prayer helps. Is it really envy I feel? I don't really think so -- I believe it's more regret for past mistakes/looking back instead of forward. I am so GUILTY, and once I start, there's a tsunami of regrets!

In my poem, by the way, when I say I will "go to church", I mean online. Thank you for reading!


Chapter 20
Wolf

By Dawn Munro


Wolf
by D Dawn Munro
copyright 2020 


I ask myself why you would steal my joy,
and then I realize there is no blame.
For you, a gambling man, each selfish ploy
is only how a gambler plays a game.

He's out to win, no matter what it costs,
as long as someone else might pay the price,
and no amount of giving e'er defrosts
the calculating heart that's made of ice.

But life is not a game, and he will lose
when finally, the fool begins to see...
God knows, throughout the years I missed some clues,
but now I know the thief was really me.

I offered up my will; there was no theft.
My grief and sadness left me that bereft.

~*~

Author Notes Beware the wolf; it preys on the vulnerable. Thank you for reading.


Chapter 21
Humbly Your Child

By Dawn Munro

Humbly Your Child
by Dawn Munro
copyright 2020

Everything good is of You, Lord!
I make such stupid mistakes.
Often I find I'm distracted -
the news full of pain and heartaches.

You nudge me, remind me You're with me,
that I must remember to pray -
my lapses in judgement are stunning!
To fix what I did yesterday

will take what you give us so freely -
by Grace we exist in this world.
I ask for Your help with my problem -
Your wisdom and mercy unfurled.

But also I pray to draw closer-
I'll kneel every day when I wake!
I'll try to remember my Father
forgives me, and makes no mistake.

~*~

Author Notes Sometimes it's not a matter of knowing what to do, but knowing how to do it without causing oneself more grief.
(Wouldn't it be great if we never made mistakes?) :)


Chapter 22
Bitter Betrayals

By Dawn Munro


Bitter Betrayals

Where is the mercy for those I have wronged?
No matter that they wronged me too -
You promised that each of your children belonged,
yet his heart You will not renew?

I know that he serves, and though I was so weak,
he didn't pretend, it was I!
I needed a friend, so good friend I did seek
but my care for the man was a lie.

I beg You to help him, he trusts in his God -
eventually gave me his heart.
Unknowing was he that my own was so flawed -
betrayed, yet You still say to part?

How will he live? He is old now and frail,
a testament to reckless ways -
compared to my own, his lies surely must pale,
and I'll live with guilt all my days.

Who does this serve? Two lives ruined at my hand.
I know You are merciful, Lord.
Spare him the future unwittingly planned,
and see that his life is restored.
~*~

Author Notes Have a care, lest you break a heart -- it may be your own that will suffer. We can question the way of things, but it doesn't change them. Only God can move mountains.
Thank you for reading.




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