Weeping Willow....

Weeping Willow.

This is your tree.  It is My decree.

Just the name, shows that you grieve.

Oh My little one, how you wish it will leave.

I promise I will up heave.

This believe, you will be free.

I'm answering your greatest plea.

Like a Willow, you were made to bend.

You have become quite adept,

at moving from right to left.

All this tugging has weighed heavily on your chest.

Oh, how you do your best.

But now you will rest.

It has been up and down.

In fact, round and round.

This is why I have planted your roots,

 so firmly in the ground.

Your limbs will no longer feel wound.

You feel responsible for their sin.

Your tears build from deep within.

Let go my lovely child.

Don't you know,

 your pain only makes you more beautiful?

I no longer want you to blend.

Very soon, you will not have to go their way again.

The church!!!!

I am calling My human race,

to pick up their pace.

And not just a trace,

but as if you are being chased.

There is no time for haste.

I have already given you My knowledge,

this is not a time to be chaste.

I didn't give it to you so My word would be a waste.

but it was given for My lost sheep

who are still in need of My grace.

I think I have made My case.

This is the hour, to use My power.

My loved ones, there is no need to cower.

My love is like a warm shower.

Rain it on their buds, and their blooms will flower.

This is very dower.  It is time to leave the security of your tower.

Just as I loved Cain, through his pain.

This is very much the same.

I have not let them cry out in vain.

I have sent My cleansing rain.

I've washed their hurt down the drain.

I am sending you now, to tell them I already came.

And I will heal their pain.

Their pleas, never cease.  Tell them their God sees.

It is time they know the one who has paid their fees.

I have given them their keys,

 and I'm here to dust off their knees.

My love for them is much sweeter,

 than the honey made by the bees in the trees.

You are to be their vine.

Inform them they have no crime.

It is just My children's time,

to see they have always been mine.

There will be no more grime.

I'm asking My son's and daughter's,

to come home, one more time.

And we will dine.

My girl....

Oh My lovely, You are not stuck in the middle.

Nor am I leaving you to just sit there and whittle.
Please, know that I hate seeing you left to piddle.
You are much too sweet to quibble.
Your heart is not little.
 My girl, I am not speaking a riddle.
Your chords are too precious and dainty,
 to sound like a fiddle.

Hold up your chin.  Count to ten.
You are not the essence of sin.
Do not listen to him.  I always win.
Come out of that dark den.
You must learn to love yourself,
from deep within.
You have beautiful skin.
You inspire your kin.
You are still scared of men,
and it makes you act like a protective hen.
I gave you your voice in a pen.
Now, play it over and over again.
I want them to hear you all the way in Big Ben.
Yes, you sound so pretty,
 like the clearest violin.

I love to trace, your exquisite face.
Nothing in you could ever be a waste.
I do nothing in haste.
 It's time you move, beyond a taste.
Do you know I always have paste, just in case?
There is no shame in being fragile,
like a delicate vase.
But it is time you give chase.
We have won this race.
You are much too soft to be a bass.

He was your's from hello. 
I know he can be too mellow,
and sometimes it is hard to get his head off of the pillow.
your fellow needs help, not feeling yellow.
Especially when his limbs turn to jello.
It will not help to bellow.
Remember to sing and play like the sweet cello.

My Humble Cry!!!!

I feel like I am not seen.

Stuck in between.

Still replaying the same old scene.

Caught in a dream.

Like I am terribly mean.

So dark, I can't see Your beam.

Why can't anyone see,

 how I long not to be me?

How I ache to be set completely free.

How I yearn to be strong like a tree.

How I wish for my heart to fill with glee.

Why, I can clearly see,

 that the battle is in the mind.

How I ache for mine,

 not to get in a bind.

I yearn, to feel sweet and kind.

Oh, how I wish satan would halt to a grind.

Why, I can see it all so clear.

How I ache to hold You Dear.

I yearn, cause You are so near.

How I wish I wasn't still full of fear.

My Saviour Please, hear my humble cry.

Sometimes it is so hard to try.

It's like I'm always reaching for that pie in the sky.

There are times I feel like I could fry.

My, My, I feel so rye.

I'm so thankful I can see through this lie.

Truth is, there are times, I know I don't have to vie.

I already have my Guy.

Then I have to once again, let you loosen the ties.

Sigh, it's time to dry.

Soon I will fly high.

For my time with my Father, is very nigh.

My Chosen Nation!!

Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem.

Why do you feel so numb.

And your spirit is bum.

You can not be healed with rum.

My children are not dumb.

If you would take just a crumb.

Every morsel is yum.

Listen to the beat of My drum.

It's a sweet tune.

A tune I want you to hum.

You know the sum.

My chosen one's,

 all you have to do is come.

You didn't want a fight.  So My plan was flight.

I helped you escape by My precious light.

To you the timing was tight. But I had planned it just right.

The water did not soar high, like a kite.

But it was separated to the perfect height.
You cried out from fright.  But I always had you in My sight.

When you hungered, I made sure there was always a bite.

Still to this day, you feel a slight, not quite.

That night, I gave you My might. 

So you would know and believe,

 that I gave you My Son, on a starry night.

You are not a pack of blind mice.

Though there are those,

who try to keep you in a vise, full of lice.

Starved for a plate of rice.

Please, stop rolling the dice.

This world can be so harsh.

But My plan for you is, so sweet and nice.

Know that I will do whatever it takes to entice.

I long for you here with Me, in My paradise.



A Father Calling His Child Home!!

This is a story that must be told.

The process is sometimes painful.

But the ending will unfold.

Your story is more precious than platinum gold.

You truly are something to behold.

I will not let your legacy grow cold.

Nor will it ever be sold.

You will forever be bright and bold.

Right  now, all that matters is you have been cast in My mold.

I have given you a mission.

So please, now listen.

Your illness will not go into remission.

But My sweet one, I will not leave you wishing.

I will replace what is missing.

There is time for kissing,

and maybe even a little fishing.

Just keep your eye on the vission.

You are coming home.

Where you will never again roam.

You won't be flown.

But I have you a seat on the most beautiful roan.

I know it's hard not to moan,

when it feels like you have been given a bone.

But sweet one, everyone is just on a loan.

Your wound has been sewn.

There is nothing for you to atone.

And you will never be alone.

This storm will soon pass.

Then it will be finished at last.

The mold has been cast.

They will just have to fast.

But for you, I have a giant bass.

There will be a great mass,

that will give a little sass.

But I am ready for My lovely little lass.

God's Words of Comfort.

Sweet one, you feel like you are adrift on a cloud.

Or lost in the crowd.

Wanting to shout out loud.

Send out the hound.

So I can be found.

So hard for you not to be proud.

You can't see over that mound.

Because it's not perfectly round.

My child even this hurdle I will pound,

into the ground.

You are not to be bound.

I will keep you safe and sound.

So hold on tight, you are fixing to be wowed.

You are My glorious creation.

There could never be an imitation.

You are with Me for the duration.

Isn't it the sweetest realization.

Loved one, sometimes you stand

 and yes, sometimes you muddle.

But you make it through the temptation.

With My love you don't have a need for justification.

I'll put it in a quotation.

Your heart feels enough lamentation.

Give room to your ventilation.

No need for self incrimination.

Christ was your purification.

It is not just an inclination.

This is your station.

You are in the perfect location.

No need for examination.

You are exactly what I intended,

like a sweet and beautiful carnation.