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Sunday, May 7, 2017

May I share my gifts with you?


May I share with you, a few of my poems?  They are highly valued expressions of mine.  Some sprang from my heart, from a deep sensitive place. Some I received as if from outside of me, as a gift from God, after searching and seeking.  
In some you will see themes of motherhood, like sweet gooey icing.  I wish every mother would feel so passionate and blessed to have the gift and responsibility that is a baby to nurture and raise.   Themes of faith, and love, and an earnest walk with the Lord, are scattered like juicy meat and vegetable chunks in my  hearty poetry stew.   

 I would appreciate kind comments, if you enjoy. 

Permissions policy is available on a blog page.
Thank you for appropriate consideration.


.........................................................................

I'm the luckiest lady in the world
because I'm your mom

Once teeny, tiny, thin and frail,
I study your face and all
in very detail
I'm the luckiest lady in the world

It's been almost six months ago,
since God sent you for 
us to know

You've quadrupled your weight
and lengthened eight inches.
You've completely surpassed 
all of my wishes
I'm the luckiest lady in the world.

Your learning how to take a spoon
While your feeding, you like to hum
with rice much on your mouth and 
spread to your hands
I'm the luckiest lady in the world

I'll be here sweetheart
as long as the Good Lord 
will allow
...always adoring, never ignoring
...ready to do my job
and when it is done and your'e all on your own
As much as ever, my
heart will sing
I'm the luckiest lady in the world
because I'm your mom
and you're my son

...............................................................................

I have relished each sight, each sound, and touch..... even your cry.  Today when you cried because I wasn't fixing your breakfast fast enough, I just complimented you on your good strong cry and told you how proud I was that you have good lungs and could cry so well.

This praising is easy.
Your little hands
little feet
all are getting bigger

Your little arms have learned how to hug,
and you like to stand beside me as I sit and hold
you against me snug
It's then that I gaze at your toned little back, 
and give a soft, light rub
and then turn my face toward your head,
and admire the soft blonde hair.
It's getting longer and thicker.
In some places, we may trim in a few weeks.
I can't resist but rub it also, and then you coo,
and try to love bite or gum my shoulder.
I love it all.
You are beautiful.  You are mine.
A blessing-simply divine.

..........................................................................

My New Smile

I wear it on my face,
in my heart,
or on my sleeve,

I saw it in the mirror today, 
as to  my arm you did cleave.

There's so much joy behind it.
It's as broad as can be.

Mothering is the role I play
that to this smile 
is key

...................................................................
(This one, I used to cry every time I read it:)


Never Did Any of it Matter so Much

Never did any of it matter so much
As since I was given this life to touch
So intimately my demeanor affects,
this child, whom of me- memories he collects.

Over and over in his mind
They will play.
Will they remind him of good,
or cause him to stray?

It is too precious to leave to chance.

Oh Father, please allow me
to finish this dance.
I've so much yet to teach him
that you've shared with me.
I want to be the one 
to teach him of thee

Please play my life's music,
til our dance is done.
   Let me be sure that His life,
You have won.

We've more steps to cover,
so much more to learn
I've yet to teach him
Your will to discern

I need to teach him.
how to plot his path,
how to grace life's dance floor,
and avoid Your wrath.

I want to teach him to smile
in life's dance,
and to help fallen dancers
to regain their stance

I want to help him,
in balance to grow,
that by his steps,
Your wisdom would show.

And I've yet to teach him
the value of my Dance Handbook.
Oh Father, continue the music 
'till in the Bible,
he knows to look

You are the master,
still teaching me,
and I obediently accept
Your will as it be....

....but I beg none the less....

Oh Father, please allow me
to finish this test

My student- my child
Whom you called me to teach Life's Dance
Oh Father, please don't leave 
his lessons to chance

I pray to be the one,
Let me finish this dance
and don't stop my life's music
until you see I am done

Please let the music continue
and allow me to finish this job.
bind Satan, and forbid him
so of this - he won't rob.

Never did any of it matter so much
as since you gave me this life to touch

Father, please allow me to live,
to raise my son,
and watch Him to Christ,
his life to give.

Help me teach him the Christian Dance
and please don't leave his instruction to chance

I pray that his lessons, would be by me, for I
above all others,
cherish him as my gift
from Thee
๐Ÿ’™
God let me raise him.  He is a grown man with a family now.  "Thank you God."
................................................................

OK, since above poems were for my first born, here are a few for my second born, my daughter:

Love Snipets

Words can't say it
I pray I have 
a lifetime 
to show
this awesome
devoted Love 
that I know

Big expressive eyes
distinctive little brows
long curled up lashes
little baby nose
thick lips like brother's
Grannie Weaver's chin
beautiful girlish hands
I think...toes like 
your Dad's

seldom do you cry
often do you feed

Oh it is my pleasure
to meet your every need๐Ÿ’™

..........................................................

My Little Pink Souvenirs

My little pink souvenirs
They are a dark pink color
Some say that they will fade
But the color doesn't matter so much
as the miraculous way they were made

If you asked me if I wanted 'em
I would have said, "No way!"
But now that I have 'em
I'd be glad if they're here to stay

I don't show many people
They're mostly just for me
They're my reminder 
of what used to be

That time was very special
It will never be again
You could say 
they are my prize
that for motherhood I win

My little pink souvenirs
They are a dark pink color
Some say that they will fade
But the color doesn't matter so much 
as the miraculous way they were made

They won't fit in a jar
yet they're small enough you see
My treasured souvenirs
are the stretchmarks 
I wear on me

They're not dreaded as I expected
They're a sweet reminder 
of what used to be
when my baby grew 
inside of me
as close as can be

Now I see them and touch them, 
and think tenderly
How blessed I was
to have the privilege 
to carry my Cherish
inside of me
"Thank you God!"
for my little pink
souvenirs and the 
motherhood trip I won them on.

July 2004, Tammy Dunlap

Permissions policy states that you can read my poems orally to groups, if you provide a visual link to my blog.  Thank you.  I have enjoyed sharing this at baby showers, and would be happy for you to as well๐Ÿ’

...............................................


Dear Father, as I sit here in this pew,
Help me to keep my eyes on You,
Not on my sister, and what she does wear,
and not on my brethren as gossip they share,

Help me to keep my eyes on You
As my brother goes to the front
our thoughts and prayers to lead
Help me Father, Your will to heed
not to critique the voice or content
nor for my mind to wonder,
and on worries lament.

Dear Father, as I sit here on this pew,
Help me to keep my eyes on You

While voices of choir about love and grace sing,
Help me to hear, and in ears, truth ring.

When the preacher delivers his message from the pulpit
Help me Father, MY sins to admit,

I don't need to see the splinter in my sister or brother
but that of my own 
help me remove
and Christ's blood, please cover.

Dear Father, as I sit here in this pew, 
Help me to keep my eyes on YOU,
Help me to constantly remember
as I sit in this seat,
I've the opportunity to ignore, 
or to worship
at YOUR feet๐Ÿ’›

...................................................

In a fog..........

What shall I do?
Where shall I go?
Where are You?

In a fog...
I wonder... I wander...
I feel trapped in the haze.

Please guide me, oh Lord.
Let my eyes see by You Light
Your wisdom would reveal the way!

Show me- Your Will- what to do
Your Will- where to go

Let my wonder lead to wisdom
Let me wander at Your Lead

Purge me of sin or human will
that would deflect my path
from righteous ways.

May Your face that I seek,
evaporate the fog,
and illuminate my path,
by the light of Your Holy Countenance.

Your firm and loving hand guide me,
and by the Holy Spirit,
may I be a willing and obedient
Servant to my Master

Let me do as You will,
and go as You will,
with my hand in Yours,
Heavenly Father๐Ÿ’–

๐ŸŒ Part of my thirties, I was burdened.... wanting to do MORE than I seemed equipped to do, or knew to do.  A Christian sister of mine helped me by sharing something she felt she learned from George MacDonald (1824-1905) writings. (By the way, C.S. Lewis credited  George MacDonald as being profound influence on his own life and writings)
 Anyway, my friend  counseled me to be more concerned with doing what I knew was right, rather than focusing what I did not know for sure.  Paraphrased:  I did not have to have it all figured out.  Focus on the light, not the fog.

............................................................

Now the poem below, stirred  in me for days.  First it was desire, deep desire for expression.  Then it was anticipation.... like a growing pregnancy.  I knew it was coming, but all I felt was excited anticipation.  Then on the drive to work one day, the words started to come, and all day long the words rolled, until my treasured poem was birthed, and I THANKED GOD.  All glory and honor to Him, the giver of every good and perfect gift, and my amazing creator:

Christians may understand.  Atheist and agnostic, please don't be offended.  I wish you love, and to know this Father of all creation who stands ready to have a relationship with you, when you are ready.  If you are thinking about it, just tell Him that.

Here is my poem:

Miracle of Variety

Have you ever wondered about the origin of me?
Some believe that I evolved to be
No, not me, I have a different thought
I believe it is by God's hand I was wrought.
You ask me why I think I know?
It's the miracle around me,
His power does show
The miracle of variety is both high and low:
Butterfly dancing with feather light and fancy wings
Sweetness of a twittering bird that sings
and all of the natural iridescent things
like peacock feathers and angel wing shells
All of these to me- about God tells

From the depths of the sea 
where swims the sperm whale mammal
to the hot dry sands where jaunts 
a humped desert camel
Or consider the power with which a volcano blows
All of these to me- about God- shows

Consider the miracle of the human body
the eye- a ball- that allows to see
and on the farm, there is proof of God to me
Like fuzzy yellow baby chicks, instinctively behind
their bird mother's lead
and in the field -the cotton- plump and white in its seed
These are miracles of variety!

Such miracles doesn't evolve
And all of man's theories does nothing to solve
If contrar to God's word
it's simply absurd
and it seems my duty, to 
make the truth be heard

the atheist and agnostic,
think they are learned
But they'll be in great trouble
if from the lie they aren't turned

None of man's ideas
put down to read
are any more accurate than
the Bible I heed
The Bible says God created
and I'm telling you now
it's as He stated

I pray that all will someday see,
the Miracle of Variety
Tiny kitten noses, rainbows and roses
Pretty prancing ponies, blossoming posies
Snowflakes of lacy oddity
and diamonds with clear and glorious rarity
All parts of such variety

"A miracle!  A miracle!"
My heart knows
I thank God that to me
the miracle He shows

It's already been explained -you see_
about eternity and the origins of me

If you don't know, but you want to so
Pray to God, to you, His truth to show

Pray to God, and heart be still
Ask God.... the miracle of variety.... reveal

He says those who are thirsty
"Come and I'll fill."
He's my Father, and I know He will

๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–๐Ÿ’–

Thank you for allowing me to share my poetry with you.




2 comments:

  1. Thank you for sharing your wonderful poetry! I can tell it is heart felt, and it is refreshing to find another Christian writing poetry.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I am so glad you stopped by, and allowed me to share here. Thank you Veronica, for sweet words.

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