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Friday, June 28, 2013

Markers

A withered leaf of winter twisted dry and brown in summer wind.
Raindrops pelted fragile skin; shaking and breaking the clinging stem.
And it twirled to the ground midst thunder and lightning unseen.
There, the skeleton of winter past; crumpled; dead upon the green.

Outside a tiny house with all the windows lit at four; coyotes howl.
Sirens scream through the early hours before traffic starts to prowl.
The inhabitant, settled like dust on window sills into his nook,
waits the first bird song wrapped in perfume of ancient books.

Transient markers of seasons passed are wrinkles in the brow;
falling leaves that with the breeze take flight again somehow.
Barely noticed on the lawn when summer has raised the fields
And heat has choked the yellow spring from cups of daffodils





Jesus Wept


A warm tear trickled down his cheek
In sorrow for the worn and weak
Who did not seek the master out;
Hearts filled with sadness, dread and doubt

In their pain they sadly grieve;
No faith by which they could believe
That from the sealed dank tomb and grave
His word still had the power to save

But from the very jaws of death
He stirs the soul with living breath
To him they live; those which have died
For by him, sin is crucified

It shall not reap its bitter wages
Cast upon the rock of ages
So dispersed through holy blood
Where innocence is understood

Not for loss did Jesus cry
For death and sin both in him die
He wept for those who are yet living
Without grace their sins forgiving

For the gift of faith is grace
The gift of God who lifts His face
Upon His mourning children here
And weeps because He holds them dear

Now as sorrows dark and deep
Blind the eyes of those who sleep
But not of those whose soul He keeps;
I wonder still, if Jesus weeps

Lord, grant me eyes that I might see
All that you would have me be
Grant me ears, and having heard;
Courage to do your will and word

For I am also worn and weak
Striving to be kind and meek
Let me be the word you speak
And not a tear upon your cheek

And when your word is in me kept
Like opened eyes of one who slept
Let me remember and not forget
It was for me that Jesus wept


Friday, June 21, 2013

A Summer Night


Lights flicker on like fireflies at dusk
Sun sets and settles in brick dust evening
A red haze fades into grey and then night
I count windows and streets by their lights

There’s romance in the warm summer air
Stars are playing hide and seek in the clouds
Distant traffic drone overpowered by a cricket’s chirp
Honeysuckle drifts with Carolina jasmine

A night like this was meant for lovers
It brings an old man wistful memories
Somewhere cars are parked on lover’s lane
Couples cuddled will wake to early rain

I can see heat lightning in the distant sky
I never hear the thunder though I listen for awhile
Just a barking dog and coyotes at play
Sounds of night are drowned by day

It’s pensive but sweet; this melancholy night
Stirring the mind and heart with warm fingers
Like perfume on a pillow when a lover has left
I am satisfied now but desire still lingers

Softly, softly, almost imperceptible
The music fades into a gentle quiet
Sighs of longing are replaced by yawning
And I drift to dream in the summer night

About Me

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Boone, North Carolina, United States
North Carolina poet and musician Fabian G. Franklin invites you to join him on a poetic journey through the soul.