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Group VII
by Joyce Poet
12/31/05
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Sweet Jesus, Deliver Me!
The Compassionate Servant
A Visit with Grandma
Praise From Within the Pit
Rylie
Higher than Highly
Beautiful Oklahoma
In the Darkness
Carry On
A Special Place for Children


Sweet Jesus, Deliver Me!

All of the answers to the requests in this poem can be found in the one that directly follows it, ‘The Compassionate Servant.’

No love notes
filled and scented
with rose petals
have touched my heart
since my baby boy
waved goodbye,
(a fate worse than fear of trains)
his own heart torn
between his Mom and Dad.
I think one could
touch me, someday,
if I could only shut out
the sounds of that
roaring train.

Even if
I could go back,
things would not have changed.
I'd have done some things
differently,
but there'd be nothing
I could do
to quiet the roar
and my fear
of the train.

Children
marrying children --
Did we think
that one of us
would never grow up
into grownup needs,
and out of
rock-n-roll dreams
and playing
with trains?

He inherited
his Granddad's sickness.
She wore the same scars
I did.
He was singing
'Me Against the World.'
She whistled along,
(neither could carry a tune)
and together,
they drove a train.

Driven by their disease,
I know they weren't thinking
of me
or where the train was headed.
They climbed
into a lower-class bunk
between their scars
and rock-n-roll dreams,
while I came face-to-face
with the roaring cry
of a train.

Nothing scares me
much
these days
except, maybe,
being alone.
But I can do without
rose-scented love notes,
romantic thunderstorms
and rock-n-roll dreams
if it means facing
the earth shattering
screams
of another train.

Sweet Jesus,
my Deliverer,
I beg of you:
Deliver me today.
Deliver me.
Deliver me!
Deliver me from my fear
of rose-scented love notes
and my fear
of the screaming,
the roaring,
the cry
of yesterday’s trains.
© Joyce Pool

The Compassionate Servant

Luke 23:34 And Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." And they cast lots to divide his garments.

“No, I was never married.
A woman never broke My heart.
I’ve never been where you’ve been
and, by this, we are set apart.

But, listen. Don’t say a word.
I’m here to comfort you today.
It isn’t necessary
right now, that you should try to pray.

I want you to see beyond
the sacrifices of the Lamb.
I want you to know the heart,
the compassion of the I Am.

I was not a regal king
with a purple robe and gold crown.
I rode in no chariot
with bodyguards standing around.

I was a lowly servant.
I know all your heart’s deepest clefts.
I rode a little donkey
and paid every one of your debts.

There is nothing about you
that I do not already know.
I cry every time you cry
and it’s because I love you so.

I have been praying for you
as I promised you that I would,
that you might forgive them both,
not just for them, but for your good.

I’ve collected all your tears
for the day we meet face to face.
Until then, you’ll find Me near,
here in the Most High’s secret place.”

I am forgiven as I forgive those who trespass against me.

Hallowed be His Name.

© Joyce Pool

A Visit with Grandma

Proverbs 17:6 Children's children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.

"Pitter-pat, pitter-pat."
Tiny feet down the hallway say,
"Grandma, I'm awake from my nap."
"Pitter-pat, pitter-pat."
What a beautiful sound!

"Ungung, Ungung,
Bah, Ssst, and Ta-ta-ta."
Don't you know what those mean?
Why, "MY Grandma's the coolest!"
But, of course she is!

It's hereditary --
I get it from my grandson!
I get a gentle tug at my heart,
eskimo kisses,
and lots of "lubbin" as well.

That's gotta be
the most beautiful laughter
in this whole world!
Ah... and that smile
is directed at ME!

Want to see a picture?
That's MY grandson!
That's MY angel baby
wearing that crown
of spun gold!

Pennies,
wildflowers,
and grandkids --
such sweet little things.
I sure am blessed!

"Pitter-pat, pitter-pat."
That one means "Grandma,
I'm going back home today."
Five days of bliss,
over much too soon...

Why, that would be
Joel's visit with Grandma.
Hurry and grow a little, Miss Rylie,
so you can have some time
with the coolest Grandma ever, too!
© Joyce Pool

Praise From Within the Pit

Psalm 44:22 Yet for your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.

Romans 8:35-36 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: "For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.

Psalm 139:7-12 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.


Hallelujah!
You are the only Shepherd
who can rescue Your sheep from slaughter,
the only begotten Son
whose life was given for me,
Your daughter.

Oh, my Savior,
my friend in times of terror,
You alone are my fortress,
my shelter,
and my sin bearer.

The valleys have been so deep,
but Your love is omnipresent.
You are the greatest friend
to the sinful and weary peasant.

Hallelujah!
You are the only Shepherd
who can rescue Your sheep from slaughter,
the only begotten Son
whose life was given for me,
Your daughter.

How I praise Your mercy,
that walks me through the valleys.
How I stand in wonder and awe
of the Spirit
that teaches Your law.

Be praised! Be praised!
Be lifted where You sit.
Let Your throne be known
to the weary and broken.
Be praised,
even from within the pit!

Hallelujah!
You are the only Shepherd
who can rescue Your sheep from slaughter,
the only begotten Son
whose life was given for me,
Your daughter.

Hallelujah!
You are the only Shepherd
who can rescue Your sheep from slaughter,
the only begotten Son
whose life was given for me,
Your daughter.

Be praised! Be praised!
Be lifted where You sit.
Let Your throne be known
to the weary and broken.
Be praised,
even from within the pit!

Hallelujah!
You are the only Shepherd
who can rescue Your sheep from slaughter,
the only begotten Son
whose life was given for me,
Your daughter.

Hallelujah!
Sing praise to the only Shepherd
who can rescue you from the slaughter.
He gave His life
to call you His own
beloved sons and daughters.

Hallelujah!
You are the only Shepherd
who can rescue Your sheep from slaughter,
the only begotten Son
whose life was given for me,
Your daughter.
© Joyce Pool

Rylie

Deuteronomy 11:19-21 And ye shall teach them your children, speaking of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt write them upon the door posts of thine house, and upon thy gates: That your days may be multiplied, and the days of your children, in the land which the LORD sware unto your fathers to give them, as the days of heaven upon the earth.

My beautiful little angel baby,
I place you in my Father's hands.

Somehow,
He loves you more than Grandma does.
He even loves you more than your Mommy does.
And He can take much better care of you
than either of us.

He's going to touch your tiny body
and make it well
and amaze your doctors
by doing what they cannot.

I promise, Rylie,
to teach you His ways
when you are old enough to understand.
Until then,
I will whisper sweet blessings in your ear
and into your innocent little spirit.

No worries, now,
little one.
Our Father in heaven is holding your tiny hand.
Peaceful dreams.
Grandma will hold you close
to hear your contented sigh again
many, many times.
© Joyce Pool

Higher than Highly

When I can’t find the words
to praise You,
I just cry out, “I want to!”
And there You are,
glorious and beautiful.

You, personally, take the praise
my heart wants to give
and bring out of it something greater
than “Hallelujah” --
the highest of praises.

I don’t know how You do it,
but You do.
You teach my spirit
what my mind can’t possibly comprehend.

In this,
I have full revelation
of “worship in spirit and in truth”
without the hindrance
of human thought.

Someday,
I will trade in this skin.
There will be nothing left between us
and “I want to”
will be permanently manifest
on my glorified tongue.

For today,
I cannot lift Your Name
with any amount of words,
with dance, with songs,
or even still and prostrate
and have it be enough
to satisfy my soul.

Even “Hallelujah”
cannot express
the depths of praise
that cry out from my heart.
I want to!
I want to!
I want to give You a higher praise!

Blessed be Your Name!
Let heaven and earth
bow before You!
Let every tongue confess
that You are Lord!

Let Your Name be higher
than highly praised!
Let it be unto me
to give You
the highest of highest praise.
Be praised!
© Joyce Pool

Beautiful Oklahoma

With miles separating me
from city sights and sounds,
I am at awe to what once
was just ordinary life for me.

I wonder if the remnant
of my family left here
ever even notice the fortune
right in their own front yards.

Light is never so light
until it shines in the darkness;
No way there were this many stars
on any other night in history.

I wish I were there,
in a place where I could know
love to its fullest,
sure "It doesn't get better than this."

Tomorrow is promised
to no one, though,
so I may not find myself
in that place
until I sit up there
among those dancing skylights.

But the sounds of night,
so far from the city,
sing sweet songs of hope;
You can take a girl
out of the country,
but...

you can't take the heart of the dance
out of the girl.

No wonder they call her "God's country,"
where the buffalo still run wild
and the skylights
can dance you into serenity.

There's a place
even farther from here --
a place to sit on huge boulders,
careful not to disrespect
the mountain lion's territory
or to disrupt
nature's glorified painting.

There, in the company
of the tips of tall mountain pines
and wild horses,
overlooking the Blue Mountain horizon
that nearly blends in with the sky,
peace can be found
in abundance,
only exceeded by being
in the presence
of the Most High.

My beautiful Oklahoma,
I will see you again soon
if the Lord is willing.
And I will carry home with me
a portion of your beauty.
Or maybe they're right
and beauty is in the eye
of the beholder.

Either way,
I'm sure glad
you can't take the country
out of the girl.
© Joyce Pool

In the Darkness

I've seen it time and time again -- mature Christians who would have newborns believe that walking into the Light means smooth sailing from then on. To walk in the Light doesn't necessarily mean we aren't going to have dark days. As a matter of fact, we are guaranteed to have times of persecution and trials, those dark moments. But it is at those times that we can take God at His Word and believe that He will not utterly leave us there. He will not forsake us. He will not send us through something He knows we can't handle. And when we do come out, we come out all the better for having gone through it. It is at those times that we can be still and know that He is God. He has not and will never forsake us if we will but lean on Him, trusting Him to bring us out. Faith...

Crouched low in a dark alley,
afraid of things I couldn't see,
Your glory shone, a ray of sunlight --
a promise to protect me.

You have been my trusted friend
through the threats of darkness and pain --
blessed assurance and perfect peace
that You'd bring me out again,

to walk upon the high hills
with a bounce in my clumsy steps,
trusting You in this path we call "life,"
finding Your promises kept.

There are those times when I must
walk back through that alley, but Lord,
I know, now, that I don't walk alone --
I can take You at Your Word:

"I will never forsake you."
And I believe You never will.
I've found I can lean upon the Rock
and, in the darkness, stand still.
© Joyce Pool

Carry On

Is it possible to be rooted, grounded,
and still be living on dreams?
Of course it is!
It's called "hope" and,
by force, I have my share.
(I thank God for the gift of dreams!)

And it's possible to believe
you are blessed
above and even far beyond measure,
despite what things look like today;
It's called "faith"
and I choose to have my share.
(Always praying for an extra dose however.)

It's even possible to believe
you're set apart, chosen,
called by the Most High,
even when you feel like you're going in circles,
getting nowhere, fast;
It's called "peace" and,
by the grace of God,
we can enter into His rest.

I start out each new day reminding myself
to believe in things I cannot see
and to call those things that seem not
as though they already were.
And, with hope, faith, and peace,
I carry on,
knowing somebody much bigger than I
will see to it those things come to pass.
(You just never know what God's up to
in the background, where you're not looking.)
© Joyce Pool

A Special Place for Children

Help me to understand why.
Why must the children cry?
I know You were there
when I thought You didn't care.
So, tell me,
why must the children cry?

Is there a special place
for people like me,
a place where children play
in eternity,
where the storms are calmed,
and the trials are few?
Is there a place for me there
in heaven with You?

Is there a place where the skies
are bluer than blue?
Is there a place for me there
in heaven with You?
I'm just wondering, God,
if I'll ever know why,
why the children hurt
and why they must cry.

I want to be a child
and never grow old.
I want my heart to stay young
when this long day is done,
though it's never known youth
and it's broken by truth --
truths that I can't bear.
Is there a place for me there?

Why must the children cry?
© Joyce Pool

If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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Member Comments
Member Date
Pam Williams 04 Jan 2006
Hi Joyce, it's been a long time since I've read your work and I am so glad I have the chance to read it again. Your poems are packed with emotion and are well written. Your word choice is rich with description. I absolutely love the first one -- Sweet Jesus, Deliver Me. I could feel the repeating sounds of the train just as the pains of life often repeat. Thank you for sharing your rich work. Keep writing and keep lifting His name. The Lord has blessed you to touch the emotion of the soul in your writing... and I thank God for your writing. Pam
Sharon McClean 01 Jan 2006
Joyce, God has given you a great talent for writing, and a wonderful and loving heart filled with great faith! I love what you wrote here: (:I start out each new day reminding myself to believe in things I cannot see and to call those things that seem not as though they already were. And, with hope, faith, and peace, I carry on, knowing somebody much bigger than I will see to it those things come to pass. (You just never know what God's up to in the background, where you're not looking.") Oh Sweetheart, may those words come back and bless you a thousand times over. Love, Sharon




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