On This Day Remember Our Warriors And Pray For Them!
DEATH TO THE ENEMY
There was a soldier, looking over the battlefield. He saw the artillery began to build. Knowing he might die, he still advanced, no yield. The freedom for another was his staff, golden gild.
Angry bullets spewed, hitting his comrades, downing all but one. Walking onward, his duty had to be done. Ebony dense smoke had obliterated the bright sun. Many heard the report of his pistol, a battle begun.
A grenade was soon in bleeding hand, pulling the pin out. With a lunge he threw it in the stone barricade with a shout. “Death To The Enemy” was heard above all the firing about. Falling to the ground, medics rushed to the soldier, the fastest route.
His last words stunned all the onlookers, heard to say. “My Comrades, Jesus walked among you in this body, this day. For I died at one in the morning, two days ago, enthroned in serenity's ray. It is time to join My Master, “Death To The Enemy,” is freedom’s stay.”
Come fly with me over the war torn land, Warrior and veteran holding out their hand. Reach out and grasp the true reality, Where man and freedom became our destiny.
Take a walk along freedoms road, Where many warriors have left their tragic load. Blood-soaked earth can never change, Where many died on the perilous range.
Let us journey on the now trodden pathway, Where our armed forces are fighting today. Treading the same footsteps as before, On freedom’s road they leave another tragic score.
Reach out your hearts in prayer, Showing our warriors we still care, As we travel along freedoms road again, Watching more battles needed to win.
Come travel on freedoms road with me, As we gaze upon future history, Where warrior and veteran will always together stand, Fighting across liberty’s land.
My Gift To Our Deserving Warriors And Their Families In Memory Of Seth Michael Stanton August 21, 1987 - December 17, 2006 In Memory Lcpl Anthony C. Melia August 30,1986-January 27, 2007 Also In Memory Of Every Warrior, Who Fights And Those Who Die For Our Freedom
Journey Over Still Waters
The waves are crashing on the perilous shore. They are threatening to bash your innocent ship against the rocks, Leaving you swimming in a quicksand mire, Where viperous serpents raise their perilous brood.
Beware of those perilous seas, Where there are never any survivors. Jellyfish will sting your floundering spirit, Poisoning your helpless soul with its fatal poison.
Journey over still waters, Be carried by Jesus to His safer haven. Let not the turbulent tides bring you dismay. Reach out your heart to accept the security of His Grace.
He waits to carry you over the raging turbulence, Away from the predators lurking to capture you underneath. You will be safe in His loving arms, Where He will carry you over the rough waters.
Let not the tides of life bring you asunder, Reach and partake of His goodness and light. His love will shield any evil seeking, To capture you as its own.
On This Easter Our Savior, Jesus, I offer you all my poetry and my heart.This website will always be a reminder of Your sacrifice so I could be free from sins. I honor You in every way. Thank you for always leading me on a journey of faith in You and helping me to withstand these darts of sickness. I offer my poetry and my entire self to only You! Amen!
Three Wooden Crosses Bear Witness
Three wooden crosses bear witness to the brutality of evil. Blood stains the rustic wood, scarred by nails. The wood has become weathered by the storms and humid weather.
The world received the greatest gift on this Easter day, His precious benevolence of Grace was given. His hallowed blood stained the ground leaving an eternal stain.
As His helpless family watched His agonizing death, The world wept in silence at the betrayal. Purity and innocence had lost a battle against sin.
As the world waged a war against mankind, His tomb opened to reveal Our Risen Savior, Set free from the endless cycle of death.
In His hand He held a contract for you and me, Establishing the most divine gift to partake, Freedom from the evils trying to capture us in its sticky web.
Three wooden crosses still bear witness to the brutality of evil. Though His blood still stains the rustic wood, scarred by nails. He has risen to protect His innocent family from diabolical intervention!
The world received the greatest gift on this Easter day, His precious benevolence of Grace was given. His hallowed blood stained the ground, leaving an eternal stain.
Tortures were being dealt, blood ran down his face. His tears weren’t for His suffering but for the world, To offer His children a place in the security of Grace. Oh Heaven must have grieved, while curses were hurled.
Nails penetrated his hands and feet, leaving a forever imprint. A crown of thorns punctured his brow in mockery. All the sinners could be forgiven, penitence was heaven-sent. Hung on a rustic cross, his blood stained the ground a pity.
Just because He loved his children with great devotion, He bore the greatest pain without regret. The thought of such a great sacrifice brings this emotion, Such sadness that His blood was the price, the world mustn’t forget.
I hear the wolves calling to me, Knowing my time is not yet. Their howls drift on the gentle breeze. They are God’s messengers of eternal bliss.
I reach to partake of their sacred serenade. My tender ears are not harmed by the sound. My Father is bidding me, “Good Night.” He makes me feel no fear in my heart.
I hear the predators hunting in the valley below, Their voices bounce off the walls of rock, But the wolves’ soothing call assures me, My future holds on spiritual rest.
Their prowess is strong on their journey, Giving me the strength I need, On the pathway of sickness and peril. The wolves’ call will continue to content.
Take this offerance of my devotion, The eternal rose of togetherness, A symbol of our special love, We feel imbedded in our hearts forever.
The fragrant petals of compassion, Will spiritually enlighten us, As together we ride every threatening storm, Knowing tomorrow we are not alone.
Every tear wept with discontent, We will share the same tissue of sorrow. Till fate’s final cards are cast, We will bridge each struggle together.
Take this offerance of my spiritual devotion, The eternal rose of togetherness, Which forever will be our sacred bouquet, On life’s eternal journey beyond the sun.
Many of you are parents. You know the many nicks and scrapes and sicknesses that really make you worried about your children. Can you imagine seeing your son or daughter hung on the cross, bleeding and being tortured by cruel soldiers, forced to drink vile liquid as He thirsted? How angry in your heart would you feel and so helpless? Well Jesus’ mother was forced to see her son sacrifice himself, knowing she was helpless to save Him or even stop His torture. So this is the poem I did this year for Easter. Somehow God led me to tell this story as only He can do. God Bless You All God And Ya Poet Always Love ya muahhhhhhhhhh Poet Dorothy
He Is My Son
Looking upon her suffering son, Her hands trembled from nervous worry. Salty tears rolled down her saddened face, As she gazed upon the blood, He was shedding.
Pleading with the unwilling soldiers, She cried, “He Is My Son! Please take Him down from there. No more torture, Please Sir.”
The heartless soldier laughed, “Let Him save himself.” She again pleaded, “He is innocent from these charges.” Pushing her aside, the soldier went back to his gambling, Leaving Jesus’ mother to cry.
She looked upon the cross, Where Her Son’s blood was staining the rough-hewn wood. Watching a cruel soldier thrust a spear in His side, She prayed to His Father for His death to come quickly.
As night drew nigh, she could hear Her Son’s labored breathing, Knowing death would soon come, her tears fell. Hearing Him call out to His Father, She saw Him draw His last breath.
Her sorrowed eyes gazed upon the cheering soldiers, Saying these precious words, “Today you laugh at His demise and torture. His death has become your sadistic game.
“Tomorrow you will see Him rise from the dead, Free from the tortures He endured by your hand. He died for all sinners to be free from the same, For you see, “He is not only my son but God’s Son too.
“The hurt you have wreaked today, May very well be your prayerful freedom tomorrow! Rejoice not of His death but of His living, For He Is My Son!”
As Her Son’s bleeding body was taken from the cross, She was led away by her family and friends, Knowing God’s promise would be fulfilled, Death could never entrap Her Son in its shackles.
I WISH YOU ALL HIS ETERNAL BLESSINGS AND GREAT HEALTH PRAYING FOR YOU ALL!
Jesus Sacrificed The Most Precious Gift For Us All! His life was taken to save His children!
CRIMSON PETALS
In the fields beauty reigns, Many flowers of purity grow. In among all of the fragrant blossoms, One special lily blooms.
It stands above all, Its crimson petals weep blood tears, Staining the ground below, A blossom of purity.
Crimson petals are so precious, Bleeding the tears of penitence, Washing away His children’s ebony sins. This Lily is the world’s most precious flower.
Descension waited with putrid breath of detrimental presentation, Its clinging fingernail strived to leave bloody scratches across eternal preservation. Claw marks could neither mar or obstruct the goodness already born, For from a crown of thorns grew a single sprig of bloodthorn!
A tough fibrous plant with a thick sap, oozing from its stem, Wicked sign of an evil, wishing to conquer the world with dim. This sprig grew into a tender healthy flowering sapling of purity, Leaving an unclean spirit the chance to be sin-free!
Nail-scarred hands and feet still bear traces of another's scorn and derision, A sprig of bloodthorn became a tree of spiritual budding, a new vision.
The sun was blood red going down. Jesus gave His life to wipe away the deadly cycle of sins. Suffering on the cross, he was taunted and tortured by ignorant soldiers, His precious blood was spilling on the ground.
No more darkness will take away His light, Enveloping His family with a shroud of evil, If they choose to call upon Him, Wiping away their grievous sins with His loving grace.
He gave it all for the release of the tyrannical evils, Intertwining the innocent with its deadly coils, A viperous serpent waiting to devour the helpless and lost. It was washed away by His sacrificial blood.
The sun was red blood going down, Carrying the last words of Jesus, As He succumbed to His torturous death, Knowing soon He would rise from the clutches of life.
His love could not be captured by the ebony crystals of deceit. Believing in His new world for His children, He gave His life for the world to see, There is a safer way to live with Him!
His blood bought your eternal freedom, The most precious gift He could give, His life on Calvary tortured and mocked. All In The Name Of His Love.
His hands and feet nailed to the cross, Spears tore His precious tissue, To save His children from demonic intrusion. He suffered on the cross for a murderer’s sins.
Soldiers gambled for His clothes, Not caring for The Savior or their eternal future. A cruel emperor ordered His cruel death. He was innocent from any crime except too much love.
He wore a torturous crown of thorns, Blood ran down His forehead from its cruel bite. The agony He suffered for you to be free. All In The Name Of His Love.
He arose from death to save His children from sin, Offering them His grace eternally. He brought them salvation and peace, All In The Name Of His Love
I tell The Lord each night, I Must Go On and I want others, who are fighting diseases, painful and torturous, emotional or physical to know the will is to go on with faith and most of all Jesus! Love Ya Muahhhhhhhhhh Poet Dorothy Sis
My Lord I Must Go On (Prayer)
My Lord, I feel such burning pain inside, Yet I must go on, Knowing you are by my side, Preparing for the desperate battle.
When my crippled hands fail to grasp, I become so frustrated by the event. Your spiritual kiss brings me light, Making me try once again.
My disabled legs have failed to function. When I just want to give up, You send the energy I always need, To stand above the hurt, rise again.
My Lord, I must go on. I need to rely on You, When things become difficult, Become my foundation of support.
When troubles bewilder me, Send me Your loving light, To illuminate my darkened pathway, Leading me on the bridge of serenity.
My Lord, All this pain I can’t understand, I need your soothing words to remind me, Every day is a miracle, Keeping faith in my sight.
When I let anger rule my turbulent emotions, Send me the soothing lamp of your grace, For I am your child needing instruction, From My Father to guide every dismal day.
My Lord, I must go on, Though I get dismayed in my journey. Please hold me close through every tempestuous storm, Keeping faith as my mast.
When I let my trials beset me, Guide me from the jaws of discontent, Sending me your spiritual healing, Of my entire body, soul, mind.
Our Savior bequeathed “The Rose Of Peace,” Emblazoned with His hallowed blood. His enemies sought to destroy His undaunted will, Not realizing the battle was destined to be lost.
He gave the world His sacred gift, Shedding His pious blood upon the earth, Leaving not a blemish to be found, Giving the innocent a spiritual serene existence.
Overseas our warriors were given, “The Rose Of Peace” to protect, Carrying the blood emblazoned petals in their heart, Risking life and limb to conquer evil tyranny, Threatening to destroy the freedom held dear.
Forever “The Rose Of Peace,” will reign supreme, Carried by many mighty Christian warriors. Our Savior bequeathed this divine bequest, So our minds and bodies can be His eternally!
Man's future changed on the cross that day. Our Savior led the trail for a new vision. He forgave us all our sins, leading the way. As crown of thorns tortured his brow ridiculed with derision.
On the cross that day, he tasted the gall of bittersweet. The hatred of an unseeing congregation. Tortured from head to his tender feet. A sacrifice to stop the ebony master's domination.
The entrance to a new way to learn. prospering with the spiritual word. On the cross his blood stained the dismal ground. Where much blood had been shed, innocence unheard. With his death a life had now been unbound.
Man's future changed on the cross that day. Our Savior led the trail for a new vision. He forgave us all our sins, leading the way. As crown of thorns tortured his brow ridiculed with derision.
Our soldiers are out fighting on this Easter day. Each day I do a special Easter poem for Jesus, well this year instead of the happy holiday many of us experience. There is sadness on Easter too! I wanted to portray how Easter Is On The Battlefield. Today pray for our soldiers and their families at home too missing their loved ones and for the soldier families spending their Easter without their loved one who perished in this war. All Armed Forces risking their lives in the battlefield, we must pray for where ever there is war, there is a need for prayer.. Love Ya All God Bless Ya Praying For All Poet Dorothy
Easter Day On The Battlefield
Stinging sand irritated sorrowful eyes, Another lonesome day on the war front. Where unknown tragedy has reside, No candy eggs or loving family around.
The stillness is disturbed by the artillery fire. Somewhere another missile has found its destination. Distant bomb blasts shatter the silence, Serenity can’t be found in this terrible place.
Many soldiers can be seen praying, As they stand together with heads bowed, Knowing every minute peril is very near, Their only celebration of Easter on the battlefield
My Gift To Our Deserving Warriors And Their Families In Memory Of Seth Michael Stanton August 21, 1987 - December 17, 2006 In Memory Lcpl Anthony C. Melia August 30,1986-January 27, 2007 Also In Memory Of Every Warrior, Who Fights And Those Who Die For Our Freedom
The Incorporeal Spirit
The incorporeal spirit feeds, On the representation of the needy. The etheral walls enclose, Around a struggling body denied.
The helpless cry out in desperation, Desiring the soothing gleam, An etheral of spiritual insight, That only faith can give the wary traveler.
A spiritual illumination rises in the despondant, Sending a holy shroud about the waning soul, Bathing them in the unworldly radiance, Healing their cold internal blight.
The incorporeal spirit is no longer denied, The hallowed kiss of the divine, A spiritual light of resolution, God has restored the judicious soul.
I was on the auction block of infinity, Waiting for The Father’s final eternal call. Not listening to His hallowed voice, I was waiting the last gavel to fall.
I saw the devil raise his hand bidding for my lost soul. Jesus raised His hallowed palms, Saying with these scars I overbid them all. You can never win this soul it belongs to me.
My blood was spilled on the torturous cross. I was beaten and tortured for sin’s release. He cleared this throat and said, “Innocent By Grace. So Listen To The Last Gavel Fall!
My hands are blistered from the difficulty of life. Sorrowed heart feels so hollow without His light. The darkness clings to my fearful mind, Bidding me to come to the land of evil night.
My Lord Keeps Me Nigh! His love overshadows any perilous harm. In His arms I find only serenity, A safe haven from every raging storm.
I tread upon the perilous river, Tragic undertows are waiting to submerge me below. My Lord’s caring hands reach to lift me up, Far beyond the strangling rapids I know.
My Lord Keeps Me Nigh! I feel the world enclosing around my shoulders again. My mind is intertwined in stifling vines, They threaten to strangle me within!
He casts away the obstacles of deceit, Giving me the spiritual light. It illuminates my entire soul! I know I am always in His loving sight!
My five godchildren are now in ninth grade. I love each and every one of my godchildren and adopted grandchildren, Rebekah, Samson, Mary, Adam, And Abel!
Easter Blessings
Readying another basket of Easter goodies for the church, Katherine felt her water break on the floor. The other church ladies grew hysterical. Chaos reigned in the kitchen that day.
Preparations were being made for the Sunday Easter egg hunt. Their triplets were due May her doctor said. Today they were arriving a month early, Her husband drove her to the hospital quickly.
He was so excited his children were coming soon. A father of twin daughters and a boy the ultrasound showed. Little did he know, pregnancies can be full of miracles, She was carrying quintuplets in her body not triplets.
Arriving at the hospital eleven p.m. in the night, They awaited the arrival of their triplets. Three beds were made ready for the babies, All were expecting only three.
The room was readied for the surgery to begin. This would not be a natural birth. Too many risks were involved in this birth, They would deliver them surgically.
Dr. Daveere said, Here is your son born on Easter Sunday, Now two girls are peeking out at me.” He lifted out the two girls to the waiting nurses. He whispered something to one of the nurses waiting.
She called on the phone, Bring me two more beds please. Quintuplets are being born this very day. Many personnel rushed into the room to see, The miracle of Jesus and love happening.”
The doctor raised out the fourth baby, another son he said Katherine’s husband, Edward, passed out on the floor. The nurses bandaged him in a chair after his awakening. As the doctor said, “Miracles happen again another son.” On this day quintuplets had been delivered in this world. All healthy babies were miracles and gifts from Jesus. Katherine could never imagine she was having five children. She named them all for names in the bible.
Her oldest son she called Samson. Two girls were given names, Rebekah and Mary Her other two sons carried the names Adam and Abel. All were Easter blessings from Our Father.
The nursery corridor was filled with people, Gazing upon her five Easter blessings. Miracles do happen in the strangest ways, But always a special gift from Our Father.
Today the quintuplets are in seventh grade, Still blessing their parents with their Easter Blessings. Each Easter Katherine and Edward O’Casey place five lilies on the altar, Honoring Our Father for His Easter Blessings.
Dedicated To Jesus - Thank You Father For This Gift Of Poetry to Katrin, My Sister, I Love You Dearly! May this always be a spiritual guiding lamp!
He Is Risen All Praise Our Savior's Holy Name And Rejoice!
The Rose In The Stone
The rose grew out of the stone bed, Bending its ear to the unknown world. It was seared by the blistering sun, But it stood still in faith and determination.
The wind tried to break its stance. Its hopeful strength kept it standing tall, No storm could break its living will, Though its petals were tattered and shorn.
The rose stood in its bed of stone, Beckoning to the lost world, Giving them a special beauty to behold, Despite the afflictions of the unforgiving.
It still is molded in its stone bed, Watched over by The Father, Faith is its cornerstone! Hope its only weathered bed.
Crossing the narrow bridge of faith, Jesus carried me. I could smell the putrid odor of charred flesh. Gnashing teeth were dining on another innocent, cruelly I could see many of purity's souls caught in a demonic mesh.
Hot lava boiled in Dismal's Pit, breeding the untrusting'sfear anew. His robe was my protection on the narrow bridge. I felt so loved, my faith in God had brought me through Even though I had to walk a thin rope on a precarious ridge.
His nail-scarred hand held me so tenderly. True faith had conquered the evil pitch of the demonic thorn. Christ's love was setting my tortured body free. Crossing the narrow bridge of faith, my pathway was no longer shorn.
I am proud to be God’s poet chosen since five. Given a blessed gift to offer others hope. Through His blessing I can make words come alive. My golden lariat is His spiritual rope.
Verse is the only nugget of gold. It is His spiritual uplift in times of need. Together our promise we will uphold, Planting His versive seed.
I am proud to say I love all. Helping many in their struggles to overcome strife. With my spiritual poetry as their comforting wall. With God guiding each word of life.
Partners in His blessing we never veer, From offering a morsel of wealth. To ward away the defending tear. Offering a benevolence of stealth.
I am proud to be God’s poet chosen since five. Given a blessed gift to offer others hope. Through His blessing I can make words come alive. My golden lariat is His spiritual rope.
Verse is the only nugget of gold. It is His spiritual uplift in times of need. Together our promise we will uphold, Planting His versive seed.
Tender hands touched the tomb. His heart was so sad, Betrayed by His disciples to doom, On the cross he had been nailed.
He suffered to rid the world of sin, Giving all the sinners a chance, New birthing begin, A new change for the better.
Tortures He was dealt. Placed on His head a prickly crown, Every thorn was felt, As His precious blood trickled down.
On this day he had risen for eternity. From the death he had defeated. The sinning world to be set free. Bringing a new change.
Death couldn’t hold The Savior revealed. Neither could the betrayal meant to be. The tortures He substained was now healed. A change had been brought about.