Wildflower's Heart Of Gold

Customs of community, social behavior, unmet
Uncultivated flower, civilized, not as yet
There truth be told, she's merely a weed
Insidiously she’ll produce treacherous seed

The rose, the lily, ones of upper class, high prestige
Take preference over her and therefore precede
Forbidden to attend such a formal garden estate
In the wild you can feast upon her golden plate

Comely to some, but outcast, in the eyes of elite
Due to their exalted standards she does not meet
Gathering her bedding amongst the lower class
Happiness, contentment exceeds, expectations surpass

Her position carries not reign upon pedestals high
Nor does she seek exaltation in the platinum sky
Illuminations of life, destiny cries as a silvery lake
A silhouette, shadow brought forth by light to make

Beauty rides down the path on chariots of love
Grain of sand, a pearl forms, grayish white sphere of
Whispers in the cross winds of riches untold
Found lying beneath, in Wildflower's Heart Of Gold

Patricia A Moore
July 24 2010

Strokes Of Love

When strokes of love are put upon a page,
It speaks the heart of the one portrayed.
With every brush stroke you tell a story,
Giving God Blessing, Honor and Glory.

Capturing the essence of His nature foretold,
In the harmonizing colors that start to unfold.
Movement of paint, gliding across the canvas time,
Creates a beautiful picture, heavenly designed.

Inspiration can come from most anywhere..
A child in a sandbox, or a town's old time square.
Drive in the country, a picnic at the lake..
Family gathering around for a picture to take.

Or a walk along the beach at night..
Full moon glistening off the water just right.
The soft breeze blowing through your hair..
Just God and you, in the night air.

On the palette of life, arranged and blended,
From Heaven, the pigment of color descended.
Paint strokes from God, dry brush or shading..
The beauty brought forth, always cascading.

When strokes of love are put upon a page,
It speaks the heart of the one portrayed.
The last and final painting to take place,
Is painted on the easel of God’s Grace.

Patricia A. Moore
12-8-2009

My Heart Again

In the mountains
In the valleys
Pasture of green
In the lakes
In the creeks
In the littlest of things
Everywhere I looked
I saw You there
But in my heart
I needed you here
I went by the mountains
To a place below
There dear Lord
Your springs did flow
Down by the valley
Running among the hills
Your love came over me
I surrender my will
On the wings of the wind
You filled my thirst within
And returned unto me
My Heart Again.

2009 Patricia A Moore
All RIGHTS RESERVED

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