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Group XVI
by Joyce Poet
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An Emerald for Adam/Who am I?
Bright Morning Star
Thereís a Party Going On!
More Beautiful than a Dream
In the Arms of a Rose
For Now
My Funny, Fluttering Friend
Release My Suddenly!
Coloring Mrs. Beasley and I



I don't just believe in You, Jesus;
I believe You!

I believe You are the Son of God,
Most High.

I believe You are the unchanging,

Word of God,
the same yesterday, today, and forever!

You still do miracles,
creative and otherwise.
It's still Your good pleasure to save,

to heal,
to deliver,
to touch,
to speak,
to hear,
to be,
and to be
in me...,

in the absolute fullness of Your being!

I glorify You, my Savior,

my Healer,
my Miracle Worker,
my Love,
my Voice,
my Ears,
my Hands,
my Ever-present I Am,
my Everything,
my Everything, today,
in me,

for me, through me,
and to me.

Be magnified today!
© Joyce Pool

An Emerald for Adam/Who am I?

An emerald for Adam, diamond for Eve,
turquoise for Peter, pearl for Job,
feldspar for Mark, gypsum for Isaiah,
topaz for Moses, onyx for Mary,
amethyst for Abraham, opal for Sarah,
sapphire for Paul, peridot for David,
aquamarine for Noah, garnet for Joshua,
red beryl for Joseph, ruby for John,
citrine for Luke, quartz for Jeremiah,
jade for Micah, tourmaline for Timothy,
amber for Ezekiel, coral for Solomon,
jasper for Ester, lapis lazuli for Lazarus --

All of them,
and many, many more
that I havenít named, Lord,
have touched my life somehow.
Iíd be honored to have them call me
a jewel in their crowns.

But who am I?
I don't feel worthy of that honor.

I look to the surface of my being
and the edges are so, so rough.
Many are the imperfections
in this -- Your creation.

But who am I?

You pick me up
and turn me in Your hand:

ďThose so-called imperfections,
My beloved,
are what make you so rare,
one of a kind,
a precious jewel indeed.
And, by the way,
My dear one,
I donít make mistakes.Ē

Who am I?

Who am I for You,
oh Lord?
Is there a jewel so precious,
precious enough to adorn the Most High,
the Most Precious of all who have touched me --
my very Creator?

ďI wear you, My love,
as solid gold about My crown,
as a diamond clad mantle
about My shoulders,
a signet ring
wrapped solidly around My finger.
You are the graceful sway
in the hem of My garment
as My Spirit moves across the earth.
Your tears are the crystals
that adorn My sandals.Ē

Yes, Lord.
I am blessed.
I am blessed beyond measure,
according to Your riches in glory.
I trust You.
You are that downy blanket --
the warmth that wraps me up,
keeping me from the bitter cold,
the gentle wing that covers me.

There is no jewel,
no rare stone,
no thing so precious to compare
to the Rock
onto which I lay the fullness of
who I am.
And of that fullness,
even the weakness,
the smallness,
the insignificance,
the imperfections,
I lay upon the Rock...

Who am I?

I am one
so blessed.
© Joyce Pool

Bright Morning Star

2 Corinthians 10:5 We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.
James 4:6 But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble."

Lurking in shadows, in the corners of my mind,
hiding in the darkness, hidden sin waits to find
the chance to imprison the spirit in me,
my thoughts, for one moment, not where they should be.

Just when I think I can't be free of my sin's hold,
I cry out "Dear Jesus, won't You my heart enfold!"
Then the Ancient of Days meets me in that place
to wash me with The Word, my sins to erase.

And He says
"Let there be Light"
and the Bright Morning Star
shines in the night.

Wherever I am,
that's where You are,
shining in the darkness,
Bright Morning Star.

Try as I might, I can't draw as near as I should.
I would live in Your presence, if only I could.
Draw me closer to Thee, that I will not fear.
Help me capture my thoughts by keeping me near.

As the dawn's early light breaks at the darkest time,
the Brightest Morning Star, through the darkness will shine,
breaking the prison bars that hold me within,
shackled by the clutches of my hidden sin.

And He says
"Let there be Light"
and the Bright Morning Star
shines in the night.

Wherever I am,
that's where You are,
shining in the darkness,
Bright Morning Star.
© Joyce Pool

Thereís a Party Going On!

Jude 24-25 Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, To the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen.

There's no need to worry; you are not going to fall.
It's time to get up, to walk into the call.
Break out balloons and hats; there's a party going on!
The joy of the Lord will surely keep you strong.
Lay aside your worries; He knows your every need.
Now rise up and plant a firm foundation seed!
If you should think these words are not for the likes of you,
you're the very one that my heart's writing to.
God's able to keep you; He's not going to let go.
Get up now. Get up! Let's get on with the show!
© Joyce Pool

More Beautiful than a Dream

Numbers 20:6-8 Moses and Aaron went from the assembly to the entrance to the Tent of Meeting and fell facedown, and the glory of the LORD appeared to them.
The LORD said to Moses, "Take the staff, and you and your brother Aaron gather the assembly together. Speak to that rock before their eyes and it will pour out its water. You will bring water out of the rock for the community so they and their livestock can drink."

I was wakened in the night to Your presence.
Everything is nothing in the presence of such perfection.

I long to be with You always,
to look steadily upon You
and the glory that surrounds You.

And yet, I found it difficult to even look at all.
You are so holy.

You stayed with me, that way,
long enough to pour Love into my being.

Then, I was wakened to a hunger for You,
this consistent longing for more of You.
I awaken hungry for You even to this day.

Youíve visited me a few times since then.
But it hasn't been quite so exceptional,
so physical,
so manifest.

I know now, though,
I donít have to wait for heaven,
unless, of course,
thatís what You want me to do.

Iím excited about it, yes,
about getting there.
But You can be
just as present with me here, right now.

Of course You can;
You're the I AM!
And nothing is impossible for You.

It was a big slice of the pie --
a little bit of heaven
right here on earth.

Think we could have a few more of those times?
Okay, a lot more of those times?
They sure do help me to endure.

I love You, Lord.
It is well with my soul.
© Joyce Pool

In the Arms of a Rose

Dedicated to my friend, Sharon Rose:

Somewhere in the back of my mind,
is the distant memory of a dream,
a dream of being blanketed,
cocooned by one satiny petal
of a deep, deep red rose.

Dreamer as I may be,
I try as I might and yet,
I cannot recall details.
Itís sure been a long time
since Iíve slept so peacefully.

A ray of sunlight peeked in
between tightly pulled curtains,
creating a shimmer
against crystal teardrops on my pillow,
catching my eye,
waking me to a brand new dawn.

There is no willow tree within miles,
yet the gentle sway of its branches
felt cool against my skin.

I was certain that I heard the sizzling
of a country breakfast in the making,
but it was hope whispering
a tender melody
far beneath the steel barriers
of a shattered heart.

Oh, that I could set words
or write the notes
to replay the song
that is a fire in my bones,
a silent, but most thunderous adage
in my soul.

I lifted a humble ďThank YouĒ
to the throne of Grace
and rose from my bed of ashes.

There, on the little shelf
where I keep the Masterís Instruction,
was a tiny bottle.
I had to smile.

I twisted the cap,
ďThis is to you, my gentle friend,
humble image to the tenderness
of the Rose of Sharon,Ē
and poured one tiny mustard seed
into my palm.

ďIt wonít be long now.Ē
And I laid the seed upon my tongue,
savoring every millisecond of peace.

Sure wish I could remember that dream,
that dream I had while resting in the arms
of the Keeper of My Heart
and Maker of My Dreams.
© Joyce Pool

For Now

Dedicated to my friend, Barbara:

ďIíve just come from the battle.Ē
You know how that story goes.
Now, Iím resting on the Word
and the Rock from which it flows.

Iíve got some bumps and bruises,
but my muscles have grown so strong.
Thereís a shoreline within view
and Iíve heard it wonít take long.

ďIím just somewhere in-between.Ē
You know that story as well.
But Iíve got my own saga
that Iím glad I lived to tell.

Iím just going to rest here
Ďtil He sends me out again.
And Iíll polish up my sword
to be sure Iíll always win.

I can hear angelic hosts,
somewhere in the distance, sing,
ďBehold, I see Her coming,
with glory beneath Her wing!

There Jesus rides so proudly,
with Her closely at His side!
Glory! Glory! It is true --
The Lord and His lovely Bride!Ē

Iím so glad Iíll see you there.
I want to thank you, somehow,
for who youíll be in heaven,
but more for who you are now.
© Joyce Pool

My Funny, Fluttering Friend

Some people have always been a part of our lives. Some come into our lives and stay there forever. Some are only around for awhile. They flutter away, but the impression they leave on us remains. Dedicated to my funny, fluttering friend, Frank:

None of us brought anything into this world.
We can take nothing out of this world.
And not one of us is guaranteed
a tomorrow in this world.

But, off and on,
here and there,
once in a great while,
Grace has put someone on my path
to remind me to cherish what I have
while I still have it.

You'll have to excuse me,
but I'm just now getting to the point,
albeit slowly,
that I really recognize
and truly appreciate
what it is that I have.

I hope you figure out
why I mosied onto your path
someday, too.
In the meantime,

I could've sworn
I just sensed a gentle butterfly
kissing your cheek.

Or was that only
the flutter of its wings
having just took flight,
leaving its pollen to rest
on its place of safekeeping --
the same hand that also grips my pen?
© Joyce Pool

Release My Suddenly!

In the most tender, but sure embrace,
held securely in the arms of grace,
sitting silently in patient wait
on this Rock, whispering hope to date
and, finally, I find it is I
who must speak boldly toward the sky.
So, without doubt, I open my mouth;
I direct it north, east, west and south;
In the four winds, I send out my plea.
Those in the spirit realm, now, hear me.
Bands of ten thousand angels I call
and I know they will come, one and all;
For it is according to His Word
that I can call and be sure I'm heard.
It is in Jesus' Name I command
the angelic hosts to take a stand
and fight for me and for what is mine.
Give unto me, by His grace divine,
the suddenly that was promised me
the day my Savior said "Let it be!"
I've been tested and tried through fire.
I know the Lord is not a liar.
If He said it, then I know it's true.
So, it's with boldness I say to you,
shake the heavens and wake the sleeping
who've held my blessings in their keeping.
You enemies who got in the way:
Now, you shall hear what I have to say.
You were crushed beneath the Master's feet
when He took the heavens' highest seat,
the mighty right hand of the Most High,
so that a sinner like me won't die.
On my suddenly, loose your hold.
My Father has tried me as gold
over and over and over. Still,
I cling tightly to His Word and will,
knowing that day lay somewhere for me
that I'd surely find my suddenly.
I speak it into existence, now,
by the Name at which each knee shall bow.
Bless Your Name, oh Son of God, Prince of Peace!
Let the praises of my heart be released.
Loose me for the works that You've called me to,
so all that I touch know that it is You
who, with foolishness, does confound the wise,
who has looked upon me with holy eyes,
who has called those things which seem not in me
into being all You made them to be.
© Joyce Pool

Coloring Mrs. Beasley and I

Proverbs 10:12 Hatred stirreth up strifes: but love covereth all sins.
I Peter 1:2 Elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ: Grace unto you, and peace, be multiplied.

Dedicated to my sister, Ramona, a.k.a. Mrs. Beasley:

I broke out my charcoal pencils
and sketched us in shades of gray.
But teardrops smeared my rendition
of a faded yesterday.
The whole world spun by, unaware
of the beauty that you hold.
I stained your eyes shades of copper
so the truth could yet be told.

I painted us a yellow sun.
Look closely and you will find
that I used that color, as well,
to paint you a brilliant mind.
I colored you a sky of blue
and billowy clouds of white.
And, somewhere off in the distance,
thereís a rainbow-colored kite.

It floats on the whispered breezes
of love like youíve never seen
and waves your name like a banner.
Itís so cool and crisp and clean.
Blankets of flowers beneath us,
dancing fields of promised grace
in colorful purples and pinks,
entwined in green, green blades of lace.

I couldnít leave out the birdsong,
small streaks of silver and gold,
hanging in strands from the shade tree,
singing the songs of peace from old,
ancient lullabies, just for us,
songs that only we can hear,
ribbons that hang loose from the tree
whose branches have held you so dear.

I left the background of gray hues.
Itís necessary, you see,
so the colors stand out and bright,
pictures of what you are to me.
I splashed us faintly with crimson,
a sprinkling, merciful rain,
to cover the smear of teardrops
left by yesterdayís painful stain.
© Joyce Pool

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Member Comments
Member Date
Thom Mollohan 11 Jan 2006
You have both passion and a great gift, Treava, in your writing. More importantly, He has you... in His hand... and that's what really shines through the writing of your pen.


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