Tag Archives: love

The Best Love of All….

In a day and age where loyalty wains,

behind your back, the looks of disdain.

The unseen daggers that caused you pain.

God’s love remains; supremely he reigns.

It’s not a fad, certainly not a trend.

When I praise my Father, it should not offend.

The minds of those who can’t comprehend,

the divine healing that thoroughly mends.

Do not despair when others fail,

to hear your cries and hopeless wails.

You’ve become the object of their wicked tales.

But the love of God forever prevails.

When everyone else has left your side,

and you’re all alone on that wicked ride.

There’s no where to run, no where to hide.

God sees your wounds, the tears you’ve cried.

It is difficult to get up from so many falls.

Your pleas are ignored like unanswered calls.

The weight of your spirit, too heavy to haul.

The endless tears, a baby’s bawl.

With knees that are bruised from the miles you’ve crawled.

The joy you once knew, now punctured and sprawled.

But your love still lives, though your spirit has stalled.

God’s love is truly the best love of all.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

To Know Me is To Love Me

To know me is to love me,

or at least that’s what I’ve heard.

I hesitate to agree with this,

at the risk of sounding absurd.

To know me is to love me,

at least I’d like to believe.

I dare to utter these words out loud,

to those unwilling to receive?

To know me is to love me,

a work in progress indeed.

Please don’t judge the humanness,

from which my faults do feed.

To know me is to love me,

for I’m growing every day.

Like a rare and unusual flower,

that blossoms in its own special way.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

If I Could Tell You…3

If I could tell you about my brand new song,

now inspired by the love I’ve wanted for so long.

If I could tell you about the happiness I feel,

my moments of joy, would you try to steal?

Now gone from your life, do you now regret,

all the time we spent, the day that we met.

Or could you just be happy for me?

Things turned out the way they should be,

If I could tell you, would you believe?

Your apology accepted, I thoroughly receive.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

If I Could Tell You…(1)

This is one of three poems to follow. The prompt, “If I could tell you” was given in a class I’ve been taking on Saturday mornings. Our assignment was to write a poem using this line. I wrote one poem in class which is this one, but insisted on writing two others using this same prompt,just because. Hopefully, you will enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them!

If I could tell you how I really feel,

would it change the game, a brand new deal?

If I could tell you what you mean to me,

together again, would we now be?

If I could tell you about the nights I’ve cried,

and awakened to tear-stained pillows dried.

If I could tell you just how lonely I’ve been,

without my soul mate, my very best friend.

Would my telling all, be a means to an end?

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

Something About Sunday…

A day of rest for weary bones,

can bring peace and quiet to a busy home.

A day that is different from all the rest,

reminds us that we’re truly blessed.

Blessed to give thanks to God up above,

on a glorious day, specially infused with love.

A day to reflect and prepare for the week,

and all the positivity our souls can seek.

There’s something about Sunday, and that’s for sure,

a day to rejoice in thoughts that are pure.

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

Image: Free Google image

When I Was Born…

I was born on a humid day in June,

my new eyes danced a hopeful tune,

the wordless song, of a baby’s croon.

At first glance, how my mother swooned,

filled with the joy of life’s loving spoon.

The world seemed to pause at my arrival,

so dependent on others for my survival.

With eyes wide open, I looked all around,

at this new place, I had somehow found.

This woman who stared, with eyes that adored,

I felt all the love her heart eagerly poured.

How I wished I could tell her, that I loved her too,

with the innocent sound of my infant ‘coo’.

She seemed unsure about what to do,

but her loving expression said, “how I love you”.

How happy was I, in my world anew!

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

***This poem was inspired by a ‘prompt’ I received in a class I’m taking on Saturday mornings. We were asked to describe the day we were born through our own eyes. This is what I came up with….hope you enjoy it!

When Two Hearts Meet…

When two hearts unexpectedly meet,

their wandering souls clumsily dance.

Like amateur puppets on invisible strings,

they sway to a tune that is unfamiliar.

Both struggle to catch the infectious rhythm,

but each hear the beat of a different drum.

Clumsier than most but better than some.

Will they ever come together as one?

One heart stops beating in anticipation,

while the other speeds up in pure elation.

The rhythm soon changes, out of the blue,

there’s only one thing left to do.

Both hearts race to master the dance,

 to give their ‘meeting’ a fighting chance!

By Sylvia Porter-Hall

 

Image:  Free Google images