
Seeking
To save
The lost
Treasure
Christ came
For all
Syllabic Verse
Different types and forms of poetry I have written

Seeking
To save
The lost
Treasure
Christ came
For all
Syllabic Verse

Sunset
Feathers on high
Streaks of orange light
Fill the western sky before me
I gasp
Cinquain

Inspiration is an impulse to try something new.
A revelation that your life’s work isn’t through.
A thought that stimulates an action,
Spurring you by stimulating traction.
Arousing a notion, increasing your might,
Inspiration awakens you in the night
To new possibilities.
It’s the brainchild of capabilities.
A spark that lights a flame,
It changes the same, reorders the game,
Illuminates the path to find your muse,
Unleashing creativity without excuse.
It may come as a flash, creating a rumble,
Causing the mundane to fall and crumble,
Awakening a vision, encouraging a dream,
Inflating your diminished self esteem.
Often it’s a whim, a hunch, an insight,
An idea that seems to just sound right.
A brainstorm that threatens your complicity,
Calling you revive an old ability.
It motivates you to flights of fancy,
Soaring to heights that may be chancy,
Yet elevating you to live in rife,
And experience an enthusiasm for life!
Rhyme

In Christ
I am royalty
Seated in heavenly places
Wearing His righteousness robe
Princess
In my Eternal Father’s Kingdom
One of heaven’s jewels
Saved by God’s grace
In Christ
Butterfly Cinquain

Always
Keep looking up
Let your mind soar above
The obstacles you face below
Arise
The time has come for you
To seek new beginnings
And shake off your
Cocoon
Butterfly Cinquain

Like falling leaves
Blessings coming down
From Father of Lights
With whom there’s no end
Too many to count
So I just say “Thank You”
Syllabic Verse
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.
James 1:17 KJV

Red carpets of leaves
Gold falling all about me
Feel like royalty
Haiku

On a red carpet
Tossing leaves of welcome
November swept in
As the barren trees shivered
And the crescent moon vanished
Tanka

In lavender blue
October fades with the
Waxing Crescent Moon
Haiku