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Posts Tagged ‘rhythm’

cover

…………….(available at Amazon)

1 The heavens are telling the glory of God;
   They speak of the work of His hand.
2 They daily are pouring forth knowledge of Him,
   And night after night tell the lands.
3 Their voice is muted, and soundless their words,
4   But gone has their line o’er the earth.
They utter the evidence that He exists,
   So no one can claim there’s a dearth.
The heavens He’s made as a tent for the sun,
5   Who out of his chamber he strides,
With glory like that of the bridegrooms who come,
   Awaited by their joyous brides.
A strong man, rejoicing to run his swift course,
6   It rises with fire in its feet,
Runs circuit in heaven from one end to next,
   And nothing can hide from its heat.

7 The Lord’s law is perfect, restoring the soul;
   The simple, by hearing, made wise.
8 His precepts are righteous, rejoicing the heart;
   His pure word enlightens the eyes.
The fear of Jehovah, enduring, is clean;
   The judgments He’s making are true.
10 They’re sweeter by far than the sweet honeycomb,
   More sparkling than gold or the dew.
11 Moreover, Your servant is cautioned by them,
   And keeping them brings great reward.
13 Your law is a wall that, surrounding, is high,
   The way of the nation to guard.
Discerning my errors, acquit me of faults,
   And keep sin from holding its sway.
Correct me and guide me so I give thanks for
   Transgressions forgiven this day.
14 May words from my mouth and my pondering heart
   Be pleasing, dear God, in Your sight.
For You’re my redeemer from darkness and sin,
   My rock and my refuge and light.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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mg1TTLu


(please read the note after the poem after reading the poem)

1,2 Behold, as the eyes of a servant
…..To the hand of their master they glance;
…..Behold, as the eyes of a maiden
…..To the hand of her mistress advance –
…..So, too, do my eyes as I worship
…..Look to God in grand heaven’s expanse.
 

3,4 Be gracious, O Lord, do be gracious,
…..For we bear much contempt from the proud.
…..At ease, they are brazen in scoffing;
…..The sound of rude mocking is loud.
…..In judgment, O Lord, be forthcoming;
…..And ride, swift to save, as You’ve vowed.

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I am in the process of publishing my poems in rhyme and rhythm
of all of God’s Psalms and Proverbs.  I hope to have it finished in
time for Christmas.  I think they would make great gifts for those who
love those two books in the Bible.  Let me know if you’re interested.

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Photo by Bill Davenport at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mg1TTLu/The+Living+Word

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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mncWMbq


I’d like to wear a mask that I might yawn
Unseen at that which others drool and fawn.
Till there’s a costume ball that I go to,
The finest poker face will have to do.

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photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mncWMbq/blue+mask

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

 

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My leg was never in a cast,
Nor has my arm been in a sling.
I think my hide is pretty tough –
I’ve never broken anything! 

Oh – but when bottles once were glass,
I held a cola by the neck
And felt it slide like pucks on ice,
And promptly stepped upon its wreck. 

Too – once there was a broken heart.
How many pieces? – I don’t know.
The shattered glass one cannot count,
Nor shards of hope that do not glow. 

Lest I forget – a promise made
That was not kept – a carelessness?
Or was I rash with tongue and lip? –
I broke the words I meant to bless. 

Stored in my painful memories,
Some broken bits of glass still sting.
My bones are whole, but I can’t say
I’ve never broken anything!

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

 

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I sailed out from the bay, and suddenly
I left the comfort that surrounded me,
A blanket warm, and with familiar scent
That softly hugged me close where’er I went. 

Gone were the harbor lights that guided me
Like stars do mariners upon the sea,
Except in that dark zone where hov’ring storm
Rakes them with wind and waves to wreak them harm. 

In such a darkness, I was rudely cast;
My peaceful passage thrust into the past.
So dark it was that memories of light
Were pale and dim, and like a sliver – slight. 

But I could not return, so faded glow
Was of no present use except to know
That once existed light and precious day,
And thus provide a spark on my dark way. 

But worse, far worse than melted memories
Was all the endless ink of sullen seas
That lay ahead without a flicker of relief
And hope and peace and joy stole like a thief. 

Now what’s a man to do in such a strait?
Sail the dark zone and in the sailing, wait –
Wait for the flicker that one day may flare,
That other men have found while sailing there.


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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

 

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It’s bad enough, that to another room,
I’ll walk with purpose and a steady stride,
And thought will flee like a reluctant groom
Into an unknown distant land and hide. 

But I’ve a fear that I will sometime think
Of what, to me, is the most perfect line,
And ere, on paper, it’s put down in ink,
Like vapor, it will vanish from my mind.


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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

 

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Gray ghosts afar, like elephants,
More massive than the men
Who gaze with awe upon the wall
That rises from earth’s den. 

Green-coated shoulders, forest feet –
The sight as one draws near;
And donned in Autumn – Joseph’s coat,
That jealous brothers jeer. 

Ridged behemoth, cloaked dinosaur
Whose crested, arching back
We crawl upon like helpless ants,
So tiny in attack. 

Receding Nature’s safe preserve,
The soul’s would-be retreat
If one finds how to get away
From all the other feet.


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The photo is mine, taken on a trip through Smoky Mountains
National Park last month (Oct., 2015).

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

 

 

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The north wind blew a single leaf,
Dried like a golden harvest sheaf,
Across my driveway’s cool hard sheet,
Near where the grass and concrete meet.

I heard its scuttle’s scratchy call
Before I saw that beetle crawl.
It was as though a finger nail
Across a chalkboard scraped a trail.

I shuddered as I heard the sound;
I shivered as the wind blew ‘round.
I knew within my still warm heart
That both were signs of Winter’s start.


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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

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Three days it blows, the flags stretched stiff and straight.
The ones who drive all feel a push or pull.
The heads of trees bob to the shifting weight.
We’re dancing to the Wind Unusual. 

Miles north of us our neighbors now complain
That rivers flood and all the streets run full.
Cloud follows cloud like boxcars in a train.
It wasn’t due – the Rain Unusual. 

But in this case that to us both seems strange
There is a link that is not visual.
The whole affects the parts; lives rearrange.
Together we are bound – the Usual.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

 

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When there is darkness all around,
..
And darkness in your soul,
Lift up your eyes from the present ground
To the light that shines through the hole. 

And when the light shines none at all,
When life’s a blackened place,
Then call or crawl till you’re o’er the wall,
And the sunshine smiles on your face. 

We all may fall into a pit
Along life’s winding way.
The key: to climb and to never quit,
End the night by march to the day.

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photo by Constantin Jurcut at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/meTzt8m/reflection

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.  

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