Sunday Sonnet!

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The even tenor of the chanted psalms
Induces penetrating atmosphere,
Alleviating all invasive qualms,
A haven for those vulnerable to fear;
Embraced by burgeoning cloud of frankincense,
Sweet concomitant wave of yearning prayer,
The penitent is bared of all pretence,
In expectation of Elysian Care;
A troubled spirit, searching for some space,
Needs not withdraw to hidden, secret cove,
Arrange, instead, a visit to this place,
Here, to experience redemptive love.
In quietude, the still small voice is heard,
In ambience, fair, forsaken faith is stirred!

©Meanderings 2018

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Sunday Sonnet!

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Wait! Wait! Resounds pre-emptive call of sense,
A hasty, thoughtless response to deter,
Amidst persuasive voices so intense,
The heedless lasting import can incur;
However good it be your mind to speak,
Prudence proscribes a cautious watch to keep,
Upon incautious, damaging critique
That can inflict abysmal trauma, deep;
Capricious as a potent lightning strike,
An uttered, ill-considered toxic thought,
Not only generates inflamed dislike,
But can ignite reciprocal onslaught.
In always finding pregnant pause to stare,
The wise regard each precious thought with care.

©Meanderings 2018

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Sunday Sonnet!

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Grant me the patience to constrain my tongue,
When untoward, offensive words are heard,
Intent on denigrating old by young –
Unspoken response be the best preferred;
More oft such utterance comes from baseness born,
Or springs from mindless undeveloped youth;
Are such the likes that ignorance be-spawn,
As those who peddle, shamelessly untruth?
Alas, ’tis not to age nor class confined,
For thoughtless derogation knows no bound,
Too easily with vulnerable aligned,
Yet, often in the priv’leged to be found.
Would that in kindness others we could see,
The world a healthier, happier place would be!

©Meanderings 2016

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Sunday Sonnet!

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When to the distant Past my thoughts I turn,
Some counsel for the Present there to find,
Embers of rich experience brightly burn,
Irradiating warmth of Welcome, kind;
Too seldom do we access lessons taught
By error-stricken actions come to grief,
Until, perchance, in life we’re left distraught,
Appealing to what’s gone to seek relief;
Not only is the Past a burial ground,
Where hurtful, dark encounters are interred,
Nuggets of counsel, wise, oft there are found,
Awaiting on someone to be conferred.
Leave not untended what is gone before,
There, wisdom pearls aplenty lie in store.

© Meanderings 2018

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Sunday Sonnet

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Strung from yon tree, the bleeding, broken being
Perceived beloved women down below,
Compassion wrenched his heart, his mother seeing.
What favour he upon her can bestow?
Then saw he, with the sufferers, huddled there,
The male companion whom he dearly loved,
His mother he commended to his care,
That she by him forever shall be gloved;
Affection, selfless, dwelt in mother’s heart,
Whose son surrendered to the Greater Good,
Her innocence to him she did impart,
That all may gain a wholesome livelihood.
Humility beheld the face of Grace,
The Godhead willed all suffering be displaced!

©Meanderings 2018

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