Life Is Colorful

Posts Tagged ‘Poetry

I dont know what to do with myself

I just dont know what to do with myself
I dont know what to do with myself
planning everything for two
doing everything with you
and now that were through
I just dont know what to do
I just dont know what to do with myself
I dont know what to do with myself
movies only make me sad
parties make me feel as bad
cause Im not with you
I just dont know what to do
like a summer rose
needs the sun and rain
I need your sweet love
to beat love away
well I dont know what to do with myself
just dont know what to do with myself
planning everything for two
doing everything with you
and now that were through
I just dont know what to do
like a summer rose
needs the sun and rain
I need your sweet love
to beat love away
I just dont know what to do with myself
just dont know what to do with myself
just dont know what to do with myself
I dont know what to do with myself

Tags: ,

Time and Place

Will somehow find
a way to shine
if sometime seems
it’s out of time?
Sometimes might be
better found
with the minutes
ticking round.
If you find some
times you’re scared,
remember Jesus
has always cared.
He will somehow
sometimes true
allow something’s
to be with you.
So when sometime
shows its face,
remember it has
time and place.

— By Bill Pearce



I refuse to be discouraged,
To be sad, or to cry;
I refuse to be downhearted,
and here’s the reason why:

I have a God who’s mighty,
Who’s sovereign and supreme;
I have a God who loves me,
and I am on His team.

He is all-wise and powerful.
Jesus is His name;
Though everything is changeable,
My God remains the same.

My God knows all that’s happening;
Beginning to the end;
His presence is my comfort;
He is my dearest Friend.

When sickness comes to weaken me,
To bring my head down low,
I call upon my mighty God;
Into His arms I go.

When circumstances threaten
to rob me of my peace;
He draws me close unto His breast,
Where all my strivings cease.

When my heart melts within me,
and weakness takes control;
He gathers me into His arms,
He soothes my heart and soul.

The great “I AM” is with me.
My life is in His hand;
The “Son of the Lord” is my hope,
It’s in His strength I stand.

I refuse to be defeated,
My eyes are on my God;
He has promised to be with me,
as through this life I trod.

I’m looking past all my circumstances,
To Heaven’s throne above;
My prayers have reached the heart of God
I’m resting in His love.

I give God thanks in everything.
My eyes are on His face;
The battle’s His, the victory mine;
He’ll help me win the race.

Paradise found…


I stroll
leisurely across
green grassy meadows,
feeling my feet sink into thick
soft luscious green cushion with every
step I take. I taste the warm sun upon
my skin, and wend my down to the soft
bubbling brook, which then glides gently,
meandering quietly into the forest ahead.


Canopied with outstretched arms
of verdant green, entwining and caressing,
like snakes in a courtship dance, swaying gently
to breeze blowing silently through them, I enter this
haven, a temple of perfect peace, a shelter to cool me from the morning sun.

Here I find relief beneath this creation of God.


Natures hand has played a roll, and as I wind my way around
obstacles that lay in my path, I notice, that within these fallen
trees, with burrowed holes, if I look closely enough, I find, nestling
creatures who have found their sanctuary here from roving eyes like mine.


Vegetation of emerald green, pulpy and plush, reach out and touch me as I
walk by. All this beauty that lies in my wake, I am lost, in Paradise found. I sit
myself down beneath an enormous forest fern, and dangle my feet into the cool
flowing crystal clear stream, that has coursed its way into the heart of Paradise.


I sit and contemplate a while, on serenity found.
Overhead I hear the soft melodic bird calls, and a flutter of wings
as these multicoloured creations fly from tree to tree. The soft whirring
sound, of butterfly wings, the shrill of the cicadas, which live in the trees.


All of this beauty, which soothes my tired senses.
Tiredness overwhelms me, and I lay back on a soft green moss carpet,
relaxing my body and mind, suddenly my eyes catch a glimpse of a prism
of light, barely peeping through a minute gap in this heavenly canopy.


My eyes follow the streak of glistening light, and it comes to
rest upon an autumnal coloured carpet, of red, yellow
and ochre of the fallen
leaves, that now
lay piled, creating the
mulches to fertilize
the new undergrowth,
which in time, will grow,
and may become the
majestic ones I now see.

© E. Bretton



Painting Moments


Painting a moment
with only a word
means it might surely
be what ones misheard.
Sometimes a moment
needs painted more well
with a little action
to help ones to tell.
For sometimes stories
of words by and by
might just be portrayed
to others as a lie.
So make your actions
to follow the view
as all the words
that are coming from you.
Painting a moment
needs a little style
textured with trueness
and not just a smile.
Let ones to know you
as you daily strive
and you’ll be happy
each day you’re alive.
Yes of course sadness
will venture on through,
yet it’s the sadness
that will expose true.
Painting a moment
with an empty inside
will only display
a long dusty ride.
Yet painting moments
with ones that you share
will bring you smiles
from ones love and care.

©By Bill Pearce

Come In Time

Here now ages
stand each turn
giving us each
chance to learn.
Ages changes
from before
stand awaiting
tomorrows door.
Words of wisdoms
setting sun
speaks the essence
of what’s done.
Here now changes
center stage
come from moments
different age.
So if ages
worry you,
just remember
what is true.
Ages turnstiles
come in time
for tomorrows
fine design.

©By Bill Pearce


“Surprised by Joy — Impatient as the Wind”

Surprised by joy — impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport–Oh! with whom
But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind–
But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss?–That thought’s return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.


William Wordsworth


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We are guilty of many errors and many faults,
But our worst crime is abandoning the children,
Neglecting the fountain of life.
Many of the things we need can wait.
The child cannot.
Right now is the time his bones are being formed,
His blood is being made,
And his senses are being developed.
To him we cannot answer ‘Tomorrow’.
His name is ‘Today’

– Gabriela Mistral (1889-1957),
A poet from Chile who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1945


Take A Moment

Listless moments
find a place
in our moments
time and space
when our spirit
that we know
is most surely
getting low.
It’s the sectors
of our views
that are filled with
daily news.
Listless blossoms
from the line
found in footprints
time to time.
So when listless
takes on you
this is what you
need to do.
Take a moment
to breathe in
and let Jesus
then begin.
Let Lord Jesus
give you power
to make better
every hour.

©By Bill Pearce

Our Share of Pitfalls

Rhythms disturbance
of problems we find
may beat the patterns
of pitfalls in mind.
Our share of pitfalls
will come and bestow
maybe some lessons
in the places we go.
Even the aching
of ages of time
will be the lessons
all laid out in line.
Much of a minute
might seem as an hour
as every pitfall
might come and empower.
Yet it’s the pitfalls
that we surely see,
that will distinguish
what’s you and what’s me
and as we see them
the pitfalls in turn
could if we let them
be lessons we learn.

©By Bill Pearce