How do I speak when they ask me                                                     

“What are these wounds on your back?

Why have your eyes clouded over?”

To answer would show up your lack.

Do I tell them “Dear friends, it is nothing –

I stumbled and fell in the mire”.

But remind myself ‘seventy times seven’

And trust that they’ll read Zechariah?

No;  I pray if you ‘spitefully use me

For love hardly notices wrong

I come to you when there’s ought against any

To turn my blocked prayer back to song.

Not for nothing it is that He charges

By roes and by hinds of the field

“Daughters, wake not my beloved;

She is sleeping until she is healed”.

It hurts not just you but His body

To which I also belong

Where’s compassion if you verbally judge me

Giving sound to your fears with your tongue.

So don’t tell me,’in love’, what might hurt me

Tell Yah.  He knows anyway.

He’ll show me, convict me, then lift me.

I hear, but can’t take what you say.

When you pray “Lord, please judge in me

All the errors in her that I see”

Then He gently reveals, no condemnation, forgives

Thus setting both you and me free.

Zech. 13:6

 Ps. 6:7

Matt. 27:14

Ps. 69

Matt. 18:22

Zech. 13:6

Matt. 5:44

1 Cor. 13:5,7

Mk. 11:25

Matt. 5:23

Song 2:7

Song 3:5

James 3:6

1 Cor. 12:26

1 Cor. 4:3,4

James 3:9

John 21:17

Ps. 139:1

Ps. 51, Ps. 27:6

John 20:23

Rom. 8:1

1 John 1:9

1]  Softly sounds pervade my dreams

Lip-lapping, lip, lip-lapping

Gently washing water

Some tideless shoreline splashing

Hot, balmy midday sun

My sleepy frame relaxing

Lulls me into sweet repose

Not fear nor worry taxing.

2]  Sweet oleander fragrance

Hangs heady ‘on the air

And through the ancient olive groves

Descending rocky hillsides bare

Come distant flocks and shepherd

Their sheep bells tolling soundly

To interrupt with jingly tones

My arcane dream profoundly.

3]  Such brightness of the sunlight

My closed lids penetrate

Ah, must I wake and leave this scene –

Aware by now the hour is late –

Rejoin a gathering stormy world,

Fiscal Meltdown and Global Warming gloom.

Men’s hearts are failing them for fear

Whilst they embrace impending doom.

4]  Domestic sounds and thoughts disturb

I’ll stretch, and turn my head away

Perhaps sweet dreaming to prolong

Before I have to face the day.

So, sinking into reverie,

The dream I soon recapture

Returning to that rocky isle

I review the scene with rapture.

5]  It’s on the pebbly edge I stand

Of sea such dazzling azure hue

And over hill and shoreline spread

Entwining morning glory blue.

Where is this isolated rock

And who’s now with me on the beach

Arrayed in awesome splendour?

I sense a lesson He will teach.

6]  In the Spirit on The Lord’s Day

Right on this spot once stood St John

Whose mighty Revelation shown

The Christian world now waits upon.

Dodecanese isle of Patmos –

Today unusually calm –

Back then this metamorphic rock

Portrayed a scene of great alarm.

7]  Attracting storms electrical

Mount Cerceteus across the sound

Shot skywards shards of piercing light

With thunder rumbling all around

High winds and teeming mountain springs

Together added to the roar

And over all there came the voice

Of Glory, Angels, Trumps and War.

8]  Exiled John saw times to come

Divine forthtellings were revealed

That evil Earth would soon be judged

Its punishments in vials sealed.

Engendered by the horsemen four

Catastrophic domination

Through a Beast Apocalyptic

Soon controlling every nation.

9]  But prior to this God’s chosen race

Twelve thousand from each Jewish band

Received protection on their heads

From martyr’s death at satan’s hand.

In heaven then was worship sung

To Jesus Christ the slaughtered Lamb

Angels thrice cry Holy, Holy

A new song “Worthy is I AM”.

10]  God waits upon His throne eternal

Since time before the world began

Watching over His creation

To consummate His heavenly plan:

Those who trust in Christ’s salvation

Not denying that He’s Lord

Are justified in tribulation

And life forever their reward.

11]  John’s disciple, old Prochorus,

When the Apocalypse was told

Wrote it to proclaim the season

And the age this would unfold.

“Maranatha, Come, Lord Jesus”

Completes the vision of St John

Promising this generation

Will see the glory of God’s Son.

12]  So, how to interpret my Patmos

Since soon I’ll be clear out of rhyme?

See, it’s when God’s Word starts to happen

Look up and rejoice.  Now’s the time!

The shout will have lately gone up

“The bridegroom now comes for his bride”

Steadfastly watching and ready

Her lamp will be full by her side.

13]  Sheep bells announce His arrival

Groves speak of tradition and new;

Ingrafted Church with true olive.

Redemption interprets the blue.

It’s often that sea speaks of nations

The pebbles perhaps living stone

And perfume exudes a sweet savour

Of prayers rising up to The Throne.

Penny Foster