Author Topic: User Poems (Read 153183 times)

Peccator Marison · « **Reply #85 on:** May 30, 2016, 10:59:02 AM »

PRAYER BEFORE A BLOODY CRUCIFIX

Jesu gentle, Jesu holy,
Shew Thou mercy unto me,
My poor heart fains love Thee wholly
As Thou hangst upon the Tree.

As from Thy Crown the Blood pours down
Into a crimson sea,
O Amor Meus I have found
Thee -- do not let me from Thee flee!

Vile my flesh and viler still
Steept in all iniquity
Is my proud and stony will
Yearning for all things but Thee.

At thy feet I long to perish
Ere again I woundest Thee
Take me, Father, for to cherish,
Till in Heav'n I safe shall be.

Peccator Marison · « **Reply #86 on:** May 30, 2016, 11:20:09 AM »

AVE MARIA

Silver-white the Star of Morning,
Tow'r of Gold and Ivory,
Mystic Rose, whose scent adorning
All the Church calls me to thee!

Vessel of a Wine surpassing,
Pale pure Light across the Sea,
Mother Church in blissful Massing,
Ceases ne'er to sing to thee!

Unto thee sweet hymns are raising,
Wretched sinners to the flee,
Midst that glorious fount of praising
Mother, spare one word for me.

Peccator Marison · « **Reply #87 on:** June 03, 2016, 04:47:38 PM »

CHRISTMAS NIGHT

Angel-song, aye, from above
Hast come the God of All,
What gentle wonderment of love,
A Child within a stall!

Angel-song, so sweet and fair,
Bright golden notes and long,
In Bethlem town he resteth, there,
For to set right Man's wrong.

A Sacrifice! This spotless babe,
So pure, so pale, so calm!
The Father's righteous wrath to lave,
Propitiating balm.

Angel-song, surpassing fair,
So crystal-clear and bright,
In straw-pricked darkness, cold and bare,
God hast come down this Night.

happenby · « **Reply #88 on:** August 11, 2016, 03:50:41 PM »

In a Cowboy's Boots

I dream of being a cowboy
Working off the land,
Leaning tired on hitchin' posts
At the long day's end.

Sore from breakin' horses
And brandin' all the cows
After guzzlin' dirty water,
I'd mop my sweaty brow.

The unforgivin' desert heat
Would chisel my raw hide
And toughen me like cactus
To hide my inner side.

I'd clink when I'd go walkin'
Inside saloon or bar.
But I'd slap the jigger upside down
The moment I saw stars.

I'd prolly carry two guns,
One inside each sleeve,
If with poker there were trouble.
After winnin' I would leave.

Upon a dusty bedroll
I'd lay my oily head
And try to count the distant lights
'Fore killers shot me dead.

They'd lay me in the valley.
Tumbleweeds and kindlin'
Would mark my grave out nowhere
For visits from my child'n.

On the wooden cross these words,
"Lord, pray my soul to keep
In constant sorrow for my sins,
Don't let me go down deep."

Some written to Our Lady
Conceived without any sin:
"Sorry that I killed your Son,
May I now come in?"

Oh, I fancy bein' a cowboy,
Brown tobacco cud I'd spit...
But, I was taught to be a lady
So this dreamin' jes' don't fit.

Pax Vobis · « **Reply #89 on:** August 12, 2016, 05:56:11 PM »

Roses are red,
violets are blue,
I hate the novus ordo,
and so should you.