roofmorningput: beyonce and jayz relationship

For the next two weeks my entries are going to be poetry which has been inspired by Blakehellip; just as something a bit different. This week there are three, and I have two in the making for next week.

The first poem is based on the quote: ldquo;He who sees the Infinite in all things sees Godrdquo; from There Is No Natural Religion (pg 7).

I saw God today

I saw God today,
as I looked into the bright eyes
of a little child,
his joyous laughter
ringing through the air.

�I saw God today,
when I was sitting on the bus
watching a stranger
giving away his seat
to an elderly lady.

�I saw God today,
when I watched I shop assistant
help a distressed mother,
find her lost and scared child,
both forever grateful.

�I saw God today,
as I sat in the park
I observed a newly wed couple
in each others loving arms,
blissful smiles on their faces.

�I saw God today,
while observing a garden,
full of colour and life,
and two birds playing happily
together in the shrubs.

�I saw God today,
when I looked at myself
in the mirror,
God was smiling
back at me.

The next one is a very simple poem based on the idea of finding beauty in something simplehellip; it is about a Jacaranda tree (which is actually out the front of my house) and shows that there is more to it than being just a nice tree.�

Jacaranda

Standing tall and wide
in the front garden.
Providing relief from the
scorching sun,
shading the whole lawn.
A purple sky above,
purple carpet beneath.
The small flowers, silky soft.
White milk spurts out
when the bottom is squeezed.
A slight breeze,
a gentle shower of violet.
Branches for climbing,
exploring.
Easy to grip, easy to graze.
A home for birds,
new life.
Stretched out high above the world,
cool, fresh air,
leaves rustling,
flying free.

�The last one for this week is based on Blakersquo;s poem ldquo;On Anotherrsquo;s Sorrowrdquo; (which I have also called it) which is about feeling another persons pain.

�On Anotherrsquo;s Sorrow

�I sit and watch,
useless.
Yoursquo;re sitting on the end
of the bed,
slumped over,
head in hands.
You look at me.
Your eyes are wet and bloodshot,
streaks of tears running down
your pale and blotchy face.
Liquid dripping from your nose.
Your sorrow is my sorrow.
The hurt in your eyes,
a knife piercing my heart.
I put my comforting arms
around you.
You squeeze me tight,
your sadness releasing through
your arms into me
til it overcomes me.
I kiss your wet cheek,
you attempt a smile,
which quickly fades.
You sink back into my arms
and never let go.
I feel your pain.