Poetry

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Fallow Ground
Rylie (In Your Image)
Master Artist
Oh, My God
The Revealer of Mysteries
Bare Me
Broken Wing
Freedom Today
We are Blessed
Me (Acrostic)

Fallow Ground

Asked what You see
when You look inside me,
You humbled me with Your answer,

"I chose you
just the way you were
and formed you
to the way you are.
I see evidence of Me
having touched the heart
of you.
You are stained
red, as though with wine."

Break still
and continually
this fallow ground
so that the garment I wear
might portray
the righteousness that You are.

May virtue fall
like rain upon me
and leave Your peace
to follow me
for an example
to others?

How truly, truly
tender are Your mercies
for the likes of one
like me.

How graciously You minister
to my soul.
In Jesus,
my Savior,
my Lord.
© Joyce Pool

Rylie (In Your Image)

Dedicated to my granddaughter, Rylie, a.k.a My Beautiful:

She’s got golden stars in her eyes;
Did Your touch put them there
to steal away her Grandma’s heart?
Her laughter steals my air!

She’s blessed and so, so beautiful,
from her head to her feet.
She’s a little gift from Heaven.
She’s cuddly, cuddly sweet!

She’s sportin’ pinchy, chubby cheeks,
and silky-fine hair too.
Rylie is so adorable;
She looks a lot like You!
© Joyce Pool

Master Artist

There were nine of us there,
in No Man’s Land,
where the fields never felt human feet.
How I wished that
someone there with me
would have captured the beauty
I stored in memory
of running through the tall,
green, green grass.

The small waterfall poured
over my sun-kissed shoulders,
icy cold for lack of depth.
I hugged my knees closely to my chest,
dreaming someone might share
that sweet serenity with me.

A multitude of swimmers gathered
in and around Broken Bow Lake.
I passed up the laughter and boisterous yells
to sit alone
atop the peculiar rock formation
on the bank of a scarcely visited river,
soaking my feet
(tired from an afternoon
of rock climbing
with scenes no less
beautiful
than the river itself)
in rushing, ice-blue waters.
I wondered “Do I alone
appreciate this majestic vision?”

She desperately cried
in fear of a world
so much bigger and so much colder
than her mother’s womb.
I don’t know if it was
the feel of my touch,
as my forefinger caressed
her tiny cheek,
or the sound of my voice,
“Sh… don’t cry, little girl”
that stilled her.
But she stared so deeply
into my eyes,
I had to ask
“Is there a soul who’s known
this much love?”

It’s taken knowing You,
The One who created them all,
to understand
that my vision is a gift.
It’s hereditary –
passed down to me
from You,
Abba Father.

Perhaps, one day,
You’ll gift me, too,
with someone who shares
my eye for the talents
of the greatest Master Artist
who’s ever existed.
But then, I guess,
You already have;
You shared every moment of beauty
with me;
You were there all along.
© Joyce Pool

Oh, My God

Oh, my God, You are beautiful,
beautiful beyond word or deed.
You are worthy, oh, so worthy,
far beyond what my heart can concede.

Make me a living sacrifice,
though You're worthy of so much more.
Bring me to that place, oh, my God,
where You are all I am living for.

Worthy, worthy, worthy, worthy,
You are worthy of all my praise!
Who am I to know, oh, my God,
yet, I pray that I might know Thy ways.

Your blessed peace, it covers me,
and, oh, my God, I don't know why,
but You have counted me worthy,
somehow, to live with You and not die.

You are beautiful, so worthy;
No praise is worthy of Your Name!
I can't seem to praise You enough,
but I'll keep praising You just the same.

Oh, my God,
I'll keep praising You just the same.
© Joyce Pool

The Revealer of Mysteries

Jeremiah 33:3 'Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.'

How precious
are the secrets whispered
by The Revealer of Mysteries,
while I kneel here at His feet,
touched by glory upon my knees.

I tremble
in The Master’s presence.
He is too holy and I feel small.
I can scarcely lift my hands,
as tears of joy begin to fall.

O’ Living,
Reigning King of Glory,
how I treasure the gift of the keys
You’ve placed in my trembling palms
that open precious mysteries.
© Joyce Pool

Bare Me

Once bare trees,
now green with new leaves,
and fields clothed in grass
signal covering
and cheery spring growth --
signs of naked winter passed.

Now bare me,
once covered in dreams,
not up to the task,
I search for a cloth
to cover the pain --
signs of naked winter passed.

I run free
from beneath the trees
while this season lasts,
to bathe in the rain,
where healing begins;
My naked winter is past.
© Joyce Pool

Broken Wing

This wing was formed with warmth,
its feathers woven together with care
so that you might be comforted
after the storms
that toss you so often.

You push it away
as though it were your enemy,
a cage made to trap you.
I don't want to take away your freedom.
I want to see you dance
in guiltlessness,
in the freedom you so love.

Come. Take shelter
in what's left of my wing,
in its brokenness,
while the present storm chills you
to the heart.
Let me wrap you up in downy kindness
until the sun shines on you again.
© Joyce Pool

Freedom Today

Matthew 11:12 And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.

Yesterday's grief
played on yesterday's lie,
a pool of tears
that just wouldn't dry.

Morning played for me
a soft, healing tune,
"Tomorrow, My Love,
Will Come to You Soon."

Yesterday left
and I'm still here,
waiting for tomorrow
despite yesterday's fear.

If I stand here, still,
and breathe slowly in,
I can almost smell
my tomorrows begin.

So, I'll just start today
giving the greatest of me
to a world around me
that isn't nearly as free

to laugh at themselves,
to give up their pride,
to wear a genuine smile
yesterday's pain can't hide,

to love without need,
taking life by its horns,
to walk in the present,
without yesterday's thorns.
© Joyce Pool

We are Blessed

There must be something going on
in the spirit realm somewhere --
angels fighting for my liberty
and a blessing for me there.

For the ship is tossed to and fro
and physical things distraught.
I call myself blessed beyond measure,
even if those things seem not.

Lord, I offer sacrifices
of Praise to Your blessed Name,
knowing the things I have not today
are mine if I will proclaim:

I am blessed.
I am blessed.
I am blessed of the Lord.
We are blessed.
We are blessed.
Let us sing in one accord.

Let us call those things that seem not
as though they already were.
Let us sing praises to the King
with hearts washed in the Word and pure.

We are called out from the darkness
into His glorious Light.
His angels fight our battles for us
whether it be day or night.

There must be something going on
in the spirit realm somewhere --
angels winning the battles for us,
preparing us to declare:

We are blessed.
We are blessed.
We are blessed from on High.
We are blessed.
We are blessed.
Our blessings are drawing nigh.
© Joyce Pool

Me (Acrostic)

T ried and true
R ivers of Life
E ver flood my soul.
A nticipation
V erily brings out
A ll the white-capped

J oy.
O h, the wonders
Y ou are to me
C over all the tears
E asily and

P aint me
O nly the way you can.
O h, the wonders of
L ove.
© Joyce Pool

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