Linda’s Poems No. 1



Maybe its time

for world with no peace

for the people to cry

to the mountain peaks-
To fall on them
To invite death in,
To silence the cries
of hearts pained with sin.


The blood of the babes
From the wombs does flow
Encircles the earth
up to horses elbow.
And no rhymes nor reasons
Are ever found,
From the east to the west
Confusion abounds.


In the hearts of men
where illusions arise
No shame do you sense
Believing it's lies.
The sound of the trumpet
Bellows it's sound
Above earth's heavy burden
That man lay upon


Can you hear through the fire?
Can you see through your dirt-
Of deceit and destruction
Which you man gave birth?
The Seraph of wisdom
Who plays the trumps tune
Like a sea of glass
Can see right through you.


In a blink of your eye,
Like a thief in the dark
Will render His children
Safe from your charm.
My time will come,
My day will be here
To climb to my roof
Where He'll clench my hand there.


I pray you'd have gone
But to your lies you do cling-
Too heavy to carry
For the Angel who sings.
I will leave you then
to fate you've chose
With mountains to save you

(a lie super imposed).


I'll see you one last time
On that sea of glass-
With golden crowns
And looking glass.
And on that day that I meet you
To share one final goodbye
You'll call out my name
And start to cry:


"Please go to the water
and in it do touch
with the tip of your finger.
Is it asking too much?
Then return to me
As quick as you left
To my caloric berth
Where eternity sweats.
I'll jot out my tongue
To lap off the drip
To cool off my tongue
By your finger tip."


I'll then turn away
From whence I felt peace
To the one true Light
To the one true Peace.


Every tear on my cheek
You so rashly did place
He'll gently wipe dry
And will enter His grace-
Where in His gardens I'll play
And where His flowers I'll pick
The joy of His love
Will forever be bliss.