[MOVED] By His Word

Discussion in 'Literature and Poetry' started by The Barrd, Oct 7, 2015.

  1. I was asked to post a bit of my writing. If this is not the proper place for it, I apologize in advance, and humbly ask to be corrected.
    I hope you enjoy this piece.
    Thank you.

    The Publican and The Pharisee
    as retold by The Barrd

    Two men went to the synagogue
    To offer up their prayers to God
    Men as different as could be
    A publican and a Pharisee
    And as they went along their way
    The Lord did listen to them pray


    The Pharisee looked up with pride
    "Thank You, Lord" he loudly cried
    "For I am a man among the best
    Separated from the rest
    I am better than most other men
    Even than this publican"

    The publican fell to his knees
    "Lord, have mercy on me, please!
    For my sin I bear the blame
    Oh, Lord, I cannot hide my shame!
    Forgive a sinner such as I!
    Oh, Lord, I beg You, hear my cry"

    Which prayer, then, did the Good Lord hear
    Which heart the Holy One hold dear?
    Who went back down to his place
    Justified before God's face
    "Humble yourself", the Savior said
    For the Lord will raise the humble head

    Cturtle, Euphemia and Big Moose says Amen and like this.
  2. #2 The Barrd, Oct 7, 2015
    Last edited: Oct 7, 2015
    I do love Jesus' parables. Don't you?
    It's a bit of a challenge to set them to verse...a good way to stretch my writer's muscles.
    One of my favorites is The Parable of The Good Samaritan.

    The Parable of The Good Samaritan.
    as retold by The Barrd

    Part I

    There, along the Jericho road

    He traveled all alone

    Without friend or companion

    Completely on his own

    Oblivious, he traveled toward

    A vicious, evil fate

    For up ahead, with greedy plan

    Wicked men did wait

    Steep hills surrounded every side

    Along the winding way

    And as he passed beneath their lair

    They leaped upon their prey

    They beat him, and they robbed him

    From many wounds he bled

    His cries for help unanswered

    They left him then for dead

    Part II

    Another traveler happened by
    A man of priestly bearing
    Who heard the piteous, helpless cry
    While to the city faring
    "I cannot help this man," he though
    "Not for God's Holy Name
    Blood upon my priestly robes
    Why, it would be a shame!"
    So he left him lying there
    Defenseless, unprotected
    Until a Levite came that way
    A revered man and respected
    "I cannot stop and offer aid
    I haven't got the time!
    Besides, it just might compromise
    The office that is mine!"

    Part III

    And so they left him all alone
    With no hope of survival
    Until a Samaritan came along
    A despised and hated rival
    He saw the victim lying there
    And felt, within his breast
    A glimmer of God's loving care
    And so he gave his best
    He soothed the man; he bound his wounds
    With oil and with wine
    He said, "Sir, ride upon my beast
    All that I have is thine"
    He took him to him to a local inn
    And tended him with care
    He saw to each and every need
    Before he left him there

    Part IV

    Who was a neighbor to this man?
    And which one was a friend?
    Now go and do thou likewise
    Unto thy journey's end
    Listen to the Lord's command
    Heed His loving call
    He has blessed His children
    With love for one and all
    Do not walk life's highway
    Filled with earthly greed
    But be prepared to lend a hand
    When you see someone in need
    If you would be with Jesus
    The heavenly stair ascend
    Treat each man as your brother
    And each man as your friend​
    chili, JohnP, Major and 3 others say Amen and like this.
  3. Very nice :)
    Cturtle and The Barrd say Amen and like this.
  4. Thank you, Abdicate. It means a great deal to any writer to be told that the words they have labored to bring to life have touched even one reader.
    chili and Abdicate say Amen and like this.
  5. And since at least a few are enjoying these parables, I have a couple more for you today.
    My very favorite parable is the beautiful story of the prodigal son. I think it is the favorite of a lot of people.
    My retelling is a bit long...but I think you will find it worth the read.

    The Parable of The Prodigal Son
    as retold by The Barrd

    Part I

    The Son

    The pleasures of the flesh are calling

    His young heart stops to listen

    A siren song his ears enthralling

    A dream of lips that glisten

    A little wine to ease his heart

    A little song to make him merry

    Arms that open, thighs that part

    His misgivings he will bury

    His passion and his money spent

    He awakens all alone

    No swaying breasts, no flashing hips

    His companions all are gone

    "Why?" he cries to cold deaf ears

    He's homeless, cold and hungry

    "No one cares, no one hears

    The city is heartless and lonely!"

    He thinks of the family he left behind

    He thinks of the hearts he left broken

    What kind of welcome could he find

    When no goodbyes were spoken?

    And now, with nowhere else to go

    His thoughts toward home keep turning

    To face a future he doesn't know

    At the prodigal's returning.

    Part II

    The Father

    He sits at the window, a broken man

    Forgotten, gray and old

    Remembering the touch of a tiny hand

    As memory grows cold

    Listening in silent dread

    As if all hope were gone

    For the old familiar tread

    The old familiar song

    Oh, where, oh where is the little boy

    Where my darling one?

    What happened to the boundless joy

    My precious, long lost son?

    Has he forgotten home and family

    Now that he is grown?

    The father's love, the mother's kiss

    Has he left us all alone?

    Noisy rooms gone quiet now

    No need to shout, "Behave!"

    No merry laughter, no prayers to hear

    All is quiet as the grave.

    Is he lost? Or is he dead?

    Oh, how his heart is yearning!

    His deepest, his most earnest prayer

    For the prodigal's returning.

    Part III

    The Homecoming

    There, on the deserted road

    A figure walks alone

    Bent as if by a heavy load

    His weary steps toward home

    And, there, in the window, a head comes up

    And unbelieving tears

    Come coursing down the withered cheek

    Forgotten, the bitter years

    "Father!" comes the timid voice

    "My son!" the joyous cry

    "My lost child, you're home at last!

    A happy man am I!"

    "My Father, I am sorry

    For all the wrong I've done"

    "My child, all is forgiven.

    Welcome home, my son!"

    The hillside echoes their joyous cries

    As angels dance about the pair

    They look into each other's eyes

    And see the love reflected there

    Forgotten, all the lonely years

    Forgotten, temptation's burning

    Forgotten, the sorrow; forgotten, the tears

    At the prodigal's returning.

    Part IV

    The Jealous Brother

    "Now, let us kill the fatted calf!

    And let the guests arrive!

    For he who was lost is now found

    He who was dead, alive!"

    Now, as the feast was carried out

    With generous libation

    With merry laughter, joyous shouts

    And wondrous celebration

    Another son, in agony

    Was watching, all alone

    "My father has forgotten me

    Me, his loyal son."

    "My son, my son", his father said

    "Come, now, let's rejoice!

    For he's alive, who once was dead!

    Now, hearken to my voice!"

    "For him you kill the fatted calf

    For me, what have you done?"

    "Why, everything I have is yours

    My faithful, loving son."

    He wouldn't see, he wouldn't hear

    His heart, with jealous churning

    Would not accept his father's joy

    At the prodigal's returning.

    Part V

    The Moral

    And now, in sorrow, our Father waits

    And watches from above

    As we follow the wicked siren's song

    His heart breaks with His love

    We chase our golden idols

    We ignore His broken plea

    We follow after every lust

    Our hearts cannot be free

    With ears gone deaf, and eyes gone blind

    Allured by worldly pleasure

    We close our hearts, we close our mind

    Upon our greatest Treasure

    The feast is ready, He paid the price

    He extends a loving hand

    Will we accept His sacrifice?

    Oh, will we understand?

    And will we share His happiness

    As the lost ones stumble home?

    Or seethe with inward bitterness

    And wander off, alone?

    He stands before the open gates

    His heart, with patient yearning

    And so our Father sadly waits

    For the prodigal's returning.

    Abdicate likes this.
  6. I took a few liberties with the Parable of the Sower.

    Saga of a Tiny Seed

    as retold by The Barrd

    The Sower came, scattering His Seed
    And a tiny Seed fell from His Hand
    Fell in a rather desperate place
    A hard, and a rocky land

    The Seed sent its roots down and down
    Pushing through much heavy toil
    Pushing through the rocks and stones
    Till, finally, it found fertile soil

    A tender Plant began to grow
    Tiny shoots began to appear
    But soon it was smothered with many Weeds
    Called Lust and Greed, named Doubt and Fear

    They struggled for space on that rocky ground
    For water and sunshine and air
    And soon the Plant began to grow tall
    And to crowd out the Weeds of Despair

    But as soon as Buds began to show
    And the Plant began to thrive
    A terrible drought turned the green to brown
    Soon the Plant was barely alive

    Again the roots reached down and down
    Till they came to a Living Fountain
    The plant became nourished by the Water of Life
    And grew strong upon God's Mountain

    Now there is a Mighty Tree
    Where once was a desolate place
    Weary travelers are welcomed to rest in it's shade
    And to share there in God's Loving Grace
    Abdicate likes this.
  7. @The Barrd, I have moved your post here, Literature and Poetry as this is the more suited forum.

    The Fish (y)
  8. Thank you, Fish. From now on, I will post any writing I wish to share, here.
  9. My pleasure. (y)

  10. By His Word

    By His Word, there came forth great Power and Might
    By His Word, He brought forth darkness and light
    By His Word, there were rivers and sweet flowing fountains
    By His Word, there were fields and glorious mountains
    By His Word, He brought forth the stars in their courses
    By His Word, there were daisies, and children, and horses
    By His Word, He brought forth the wind and the sea
    By His Word, all the universe came to be
    By His Word, He sent His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord
    To heal us, and to save us, by His Holy Word
    chili and / say Amen and like this.
  11. Very nice, indeed. On behalf of the staff at CFS, thank you for sharing.

    P/S - Are any of your works copywrited? If so, you may wish to include the standard Copyright clause after each of your posts... such as:

    Copyright © 20__, Insert Your Name or Publisher Here, All Rights Reserved.

    We just want to have your works protected if you have a copyright protocol that you follow elsewhere.

    The Barrd likes this.
  12. Thank you very much, Pastor Gary.
    Yes, everything I have posted is under copyright.
    In fact, you can find these poems and more in my books, which you can find at Amazon, under Deborah Anne Barrd.
    I do enjoy sharing what God has given to me...
    From now on, when I post something new, I'll try to remember to include copyright information.

    Thanks again, and may God bless you!
  13. The House of The Lord

    Come, come, come to the House of The Lord
    Keep His Holy Sabbath, listen to His Word
    Put on thy Holy Armor, take up thy Shield and Sword
    Renew thy faith before you go to face a wicked world
    Gird thyself for battle, prepare thyself for war
    The enemy is at the gates, the fighting rages sore
    Look well to thy Captain, trust in His loving care
    Thy strength is in His mercy, thy battle-cry is prayer
    Be as bold as a lion, but as gentle as a dove
    For what can separate you from The Lord's abiding love
    No weapon formed against God's children ever can prevail
    We will stand firm within His love which can never fail
    In His Holy Temple we will meet with one accord
    Come, come, come to the House of The Lord

    © Deborah Anne Barrd 2005
    all rights reserved​

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