Sunday Sonnet!

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Distressed, when we have done with good intent
Impacts upon our bodies with fatigue,
Though we decline from busyness relent,
And take no mean exception to critique;
Entrapped by trivial thoughts that cause concern,
Diurnal or nocturnal time, no rest,
Leaves little space for good sense to discern
The underlying troubler to divest;
Fret not about the morrow’s unknown course,
Nor harbour in your mind distracting thoughts,
The aftermath just fills one with remorse
As one regrets the many musts and oughts;
Good counsel, free, for all the world to see,
Two keys to life, serene, ‘Let Go’, ‘Let Be’.

©Meanderings 2018

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Sunday Sonnet!

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Be still, the voice of Inner Self to hear,
Beneath the din of vain distracting thought,
Intent on spawning denizens of fear,
Whose task it is to render sense to naught;
What gain be there homage to tender greed,
But to be numbered midst deluded rest
Who know not of a more enduring need,
Nor can to deeper-rooted mores attest;
Would that The Way proscribe the human choice,
His gentle counsel steeped in wholesome care;
Then shall the Norm of Goodness well rejoice,
And amity prevail beyond compare.
Be still, most blessed insight to embrace,
The promise of New Life replete with Grace.

©Meanderings 2018

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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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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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Be Thoughtful!

New
Ideas,
Ill Conceived,
Freely Proferred,
Founder Soon on Rocks of Adversity!

©Meanderings 2016