The Test by Dennis Allen Lange

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This earthly life is a test to find
Which ones of us are the heavenly kind.

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The photo is mine – early morning in the Shenandoah Mountains.

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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.

 

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Smiling Faces – haiku by Dennis Allen Lange

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Time runs out
And most live like fools –
Unaware

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photo by Miriam Wickett at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nHZDND0/timer

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.
 

 

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Sonnet 20 – The Testing Ground by Dennis Lange

Through ages, men have puzzled over life
As to its purpose, meaning, and the end;
The issue, more than love and all the strife:
From whence we came? and which way do we wend?

We see the flow, like waters of a lake,
A constant stream that’s entering this earth,
As others, flowing forth, death’s journey take –
Between, the brief sojourn that starts at birth.

Just as a team runs players through the drills,
To fill its roster, find the qualified,
The special few with heart, desire, and skills,
This life is testing ground where men are tried.

On earth, we’re planted so that God may find
Which ones are suited for the heav’nly kind.
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

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Testing: 1, 2, 3 by Dennis Lange

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 Testing: 1,2,3

Tap, tap, tap
on the microphone,
Checking, asking,
“Is this thing on?”

Thump, thump, thump
on the melon’s side.
Ready, ripe, to be
Cut and tried?

Test, test, test,
God’s examining men.
It’s pass or fail –
Who hates sin?

Life, life, life
On earth’s round sphere
The testing ground
To see who here

Will live, live, live
Eternally
in His holy presence –
Righteously.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

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The Broken-Hearted by Dennis Lange

A small cross by the busy road, above a tiny mound –
It seems an extra daisy to the travelers homeward bound
Who speed their ways to destinies without a second thought,
Of just another cup of sorrow that the journey brought –
…….Just a mother’s broken heart.

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It lies beneath the ocean like a corpse beneath the sheets –
A sunken, sullen hull that not a sailor ever greets.
Its captain was not called by either king or queen to court;
Just another ship that sailed that did not reach its port –
…….Just a dreamer’s broken heart.

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We miss the mark of moodiness within his distant look,
And in the sigh that wishes for the time two lovers took
To hold each other tenderly within a blissful swoon.
But now he’s just a darkened sky that never holds a moon –
…….Just another broken heart.

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The love that has been offered like a hand stretched out to shake
On a hill that’s not remembered in daily trips we take,
Was fastened by the nails of Rome amid the quaking gloom.
He’s just another casualty for which we’ve scarcely room –
…….Just the Father’s broken heart.

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If at the end of life, or even at the close of day,
I find, reflecting, that my time was simply passed in play,
Or small pursuits, or habits harmful in their thoughtlessness,
Then I become, in selling my life’s universe for less –
…….Just another broken heart.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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