Sometimes thought are random

We do not always control the thoughts that flood our minds, nor the way in which they fly from our minds. They come and they go, how they are used when they are here is up to us, though a properly used word is far more likeable than one carelessly thrown about. Yes, today thoughts fly in and out and around. They resemble the butterflies of summer.

GOD BLESS

 

Grab a Butterfly Net

 

Chase not butterflies, but words

That flutter and fly

Attempting to keep well out of reach of me.

Thought drip in,

Then begin to fall like rain,

A flood will quickly come,

But the words laugh and run away.

They are like the giggle of a brook,

Laughter of rain as it dances on leaf and grass

And the water of a lake.

The fly away with wings like butterflies,

From one form they have grown to another,

Like any tiny seed.

How do you catch them with a butterfly net

Or make sense of them when you have?

Almost too random they are,

Fluttering around they seem just mere random words,

But gathered carefully they soon form

The strict form of wondrous thoughts

That floated down from heaven,

Then back up from me.

Hello

Here is something for you to touch you, hopefully fill you, to make you think and perhaps wonder. Wishing you all a very happy evening and a most wondrous and magical Christmas.

 

                                    

Whispers from Twilight

 

Day courts night

while night smiles with amusement and tolerance

and evening beckons,

then blends them in twilight.

 

 

God Bless!!

 

So near the Holidays

Hello my dear friends. Dropping to wish everyone well and hope no one is caught in the bad weather that has hit so many places. The year is drawing to a close, blazing a trail it seems, pulling us whether willing or not, along. I do hope the new year is better than this last, but if you have friends, how can it have been all bad?

HUGS & God Bless

Whispered to Me

 

Like a sweet dream it whispers,

Does not end too sudden,

But it will.

A soul longing for peace,

For hope and happiness,

Seeking it everywhere,

Knowing it will be found.

Dreams are hushed,

Words pour forth,

A heart aches,

A soul cries,

And comfort comes,

In a sweet song.

Then like rain it showers down,

Washes over me,

Fills me.

And I find peace,

Hope and the dreams that stayed behind.

All in the whispers,

The whispers of dreams,

Distant dreams.

 

***

 

Look to Me

 

Who shall see me?

Those who so desperately seek me,

or those who are thought

utterly forsaken

most people have looked away from them.

Who shall find me

when need is great

or all seems hopeless.

I am here,

some feel me and need not see me,

some see me and yet find

very little peace.

But,

I am here and can be found

among all those thought lost

and without a hope.

I shall lift you up high,

so very high.

And there you shall be set free,

in me,

forever free.

 

***

 

The Potter

 

With two hands and a dream

the potter creates miracles.

With two hands He molds His dream

shapes it into something useful

and beautiful.

A lump of clay that no one else find interesting,

He sees life.

With a loving touch and single sweet breath

He gives life to His creation.

What once was shapeless and of no value

is now a work of art

both useful and beautiful.

No flaw did He find on its surface,

its heart He knew not,

but its worth to Him was priceless.

He gives all to and for His work of art.

Nothing of it does He ask,

but everything He gives.

A potter sits at His pedestal

and a lump of clay He lovingly turns to

a beautiful work of art

to share with all the world.

With His two hands

He has created His dream.

 

All poems here by: Dallas Sieck

God Bless!!!!!

The Dream we Seek

 

A dream reached out and tickled me,
then laughed and drifted far away,
it became less than vapor,
more than a memory.
It filled me before it slipped away,
touched a deeper part of me,
planted a seed which would wait for a time
when rain fed it and sun warmed and blessed it.
I know it lies there still,
though almost out of reach,
waiting for me to waken,
it whispers to me my name.
A dream reached out and tickled me,
and though I still hear its sweet laugh
and know it has drifted quite far from me,
It is there,
less than vapor,
more than memory,
a tiny seed waiting to reach out and touch all I touch.

 

***

Hello my friends, it has been awhile since I have been here. So sorry. It was not intended. Things have certainly changed here. Takes me longer to find my way now. LOL I would like to believe it was not intended to trip me up, or I should say us. I am sure they don’t mean anything by making so much more complicated, or hope anyway.

Before I can do much more than post a poem or two I will have to meander through the spaces and see how one now gets around. I shall try to be here more, especially this new year that seems to have pounced on us.

God Bless!

HUGS