Poetry Sunday ~ My Talent

Matt. 25:15 “And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one; to every man according to his several ability; and straightway took his journey.”

* ~ * My Talent * ~ *

God asked me to use the talents

That He has blessed me with

The sharing of the Word I hear

The truth and not a myth.

I sent the Word into the world

A message delivered to me

It was a ripple on the lake

For all the world to see.

The words they entered in my ear

And out of my fingers bled

My gift of writing words to you

Is where my soul was led.

God was pleased when he saw

My talent not gone to waste

The gentle words about His Son

I fed the world a taste.

Some people sit idly by

Saving earthly treasures

Their talents, gifts and so much more

With all their worldly pleasures.

Rise up you sleeping people

For the new world that awaits

The life that’s left behind you

As you enter heaven’s gates.

Matt. 25:23 “His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.”

Poetry Sunday ~ Vanity Has Risen

 Job 7: 3 So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.

Vanity has Risen

My concern is for man

Who sits idly by

Watching as the world

Erupts in tears they cry.

A man content on living

And never really being

A source of light to all

of those that are seeing.

Words are bent and broken

Twisted in the sphere.

Truth mangled in the web

The dripping of a tear.

Why is man so willing

Happy to just exist.

Never seeking inner peace

In the land that God has kissed.

His vanity contains him

In works that he must do.

No blood of man is worth change

So he opts to muddle through.

No rest will lay upon his head

No peace will let him sleep.

His journey in the darkness

Is for him alone to keep.

Rise up you sleeping nation

There’s a duty at your feet.

Don’t wait until the judgment

When your Maker you will meet!

Rev. 3:15-16 I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.