Category: Poetry
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Love Life and Live Your Purpose – How They All Come Together
Love, Life, and Purpose: How They All Come Together Over the past few months, we’ve been exploring some pretty big topics— love, life, and purpose. If you missed any of those posts, please catch up using the links above. Today, let’s tie it all together. These three aren’t separate chapters in our stories—they’re part of
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Don’t Die Too Soon – continued
Continued from previous publication. (click for link) One grey rainy morning at the age of seventy one (I had just been retired from my job of twelve years with no more than handshake and thirty days’ notice pay!) gazing out of the window, I wondered, fearfully what was going to become of me. I
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A Tailor’s Shoppe
Per chance, there was a day, when as I went, I espied, that there were a tailor’s shoppe along the way. Surely, I cried, this is the place that I should seek, to have those changes to my attire that I wish to make. Yet, many a day did go by, that I passed that
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The Perfect Wife
A Poem By SirPeterJamesdotcom. Dedicated to his love, the Ladye Scarlett, a virtuous Woman. (with extracts from Proverbs 31:10 – KJV).
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The Art of Sabrage
“Sabrage /səˈbrɑːʒ/ is a technique for opening a champagne bottle with a Sabre,[1] used for ceremonial occasions. The wielder slides the Sabre along the body of the bottle to break the top of the neck away, leaving the neck of the bottle open and ready to pour. The force of the blunt side of the
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Trail of Wilderness
Medieval Prose by sirpeterjames.com Along the trail of wilderness wandered I ,my heart did cry, who am, I who am I? Yet no reply, no reply came to my reporte. Yet did the wind call in its flight yonder. Is this the voice I seek, the voice of my thoughtse? Nay, surely not; the wind
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Early Morning
I LOVE TO WATCH A SUN RISE ACROSS THE FIELDS FAR WAY, SPLASHES OF COLOR, BRIGHT SHADES OF RED IT IS A SIGNAL OF A BEGINNING DAY. THE CLOUDS MARCHING ACROSS THE SKY FLUFFY BILLOWS OF SOFT WHITE, THE SUN PEEKING UP OVER THE MOUNTAIN PROMISING TO TAKE THE DARKNESS OF NIGHT. THE FLOWERS
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A Tailor’s Shoppe
Per chance, there was a day, when as I went, I espied, that there were a tailor’s shoppe along the waye. Surely, I cried, this is the place that I should seek, to have those changes to my attire that I wish to make.
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Children
Children Harry Martinson 1931 A group of children play here – the wind cleans the sky, the clouds dance. Someone flings rocks, someone helps an ant home, someone throws the hazel spear through a spider’s web; Some caress lovingly – a boy and girl, explore the skin’s smoothness, blush red, feel giddiness, kiss
Love Your Life Adopt Your Purpose 