Friday, May 15, 2009

The winning entry

Hello everyone!

Well, this has been posted elsewhere but thought it time to start posting some of the inspired creations here. This poem was written back on August 24th 2008 in response to a writing contest in Cork Ireland. It made the finals against two other writers and won by popular vote with as many votes as the other two combined. The idea was to write something about a bard and a merchant's daughter. What came to me turned out to be a Christian witness. Enjoy.


The old man sits feeding doves
by the lough on a soft day.
He is there yet is distant.
His mind is always at play.

She is a sweet lonely lass
from the small town up the way.
She came to the lough forlorn
to kneel down sadly and pray.

She sees the man smiling bright
with a look of joy so real.
And so she dares to approach
as if His beaming might heal.

Why the sad eyes pretty lass?
Says He in a soft clear lilt.
Do you not know God's glories
reach out to erase your guilt.

Says she I am hating life.
There is no love and no hope.
My dad is the town merchant,
and for love I blindly grope.

Who might you be gentle sir?
Says she through a stream of tears.
Says He I'm the bard ageless
sent here to remove your fears.

Hear that sweet dove cooing song
to tell you life is a gift.
Hear the wind and the water,
and let your spirit just drift.

Each day is a newborn babe
that you must care for and love.
To waste it would be tragic
just like you killing that dove.

He then takes the cooing bird
and puts it in her soft hands.
Then with His hand a caress,
and a kiss upon her lands.

When she looks up nothings there.
The bard is not to be found.
Just her smile and the cooing
and a cross upon the ground.

c 2008 Scott Manke aka moscapoet

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