I was an inscrutable, capricious mystery writer, like a pure mystery of days;
And I had composed best selling novels, like westering sun's scarlet phase.
An unparalleled passion for writing, had for quite long been the motivation,
Behind novels which captured hearts, like pink clouds, drifting in formation.
My office desk faced the picture window, near the border of riotous blooms;
And sunny views enriched often eager eyes, owing to birds of many plumes.
Friends were a forever force in my life, like the natural floods of floundering,
......
If only I had known I’d never hear your voice again
Or hear you whisper sweetly in my ear
I’d memorise each word of love you ever said to me
So when I'm all alone, your voice I’ll hear
If only I had known it was the last time I would see
The man I love with all my heart and soul
I would have held on tighter and kept you close to me
And never would have ever let you go
......
Sometimes my head is in the clouds...
Other times my head is in the sand...
Sometimes my thoughts are so jumbled up...
I feel I’m sinking in some far off hinterland...
It’s hard to control my thinking...
A challenge I face every day...
It’s as if my wires are completely crossed...
The mind games that steal me away...
......
Every want my spirit feels,
Every sorrow, every care,
Only strengthens my appeals,
Sweetens earnest pleading prayer.
Many are my daily wants,
More the precious gifts I share,
For the loving Saviour grants
All I ask in faithful prayer.
......
O Ganga, who doth not take pride in thy arms
The earthly life, scornful, is always proud of thy touch
O Ganga, who doth not take pride in thy divine alms
O thou, let the life be full of joy and happiness much.
Thou, look into our eyes; somewhere thou must be.
Now, our lives today are so uplifted anew by thy privacy
Or, into the core of our lives we seek thy eternity,
Open eyed, to manure lives, or to be heir to thy legacy.
Let us seek beauty in thee, O! let us be free from obscurity.
......
These are prayer poems by Michael R. Burch, along with a few hymns. There are also poems on the subject of God and religion—Christianity in particular.
I Pray Tonight
by Michael R. Burch
I pray tonight
the starry light
might
......
The Prayer of a Common Man
Grant me freedom
not wisdom
Grant me peace
and its every ease
Grant me the state
of unfailing faith
......
I was an inscrutable, capricious mystery writer, like a pure mystery of days;
And I had composed best selling novels, like westering sun's scarlet phase.
An unparalleled passion for writing, had for quite long been the motivation,
Behind novels which captured hearts, like pink clouds, drifting in formation.
My office desk faced the picture window, near the border of riotous blooms;
And sunny views enriched often eager eyes, owing to birds of many plumes.
Friends were a forever force in my life, like the natural floods of floundering,
......
O Ganga, who doth not take pride in thy arms
The earthly life, scornful, is always proud of thy touch
O Ganga, who doth not take pride in thy divine alms
O thou, let the life be full of joy and happiness much.
Thou, look into our eyes; somewhere thou must be.
Now, our lives today are so uplifted anew by thy privacy
Or, into the core of our lives we seek thy eternity,
Open eyed, to manure lives, or to be heir to thy legacy.
Let us seek beauty in thee, O! let us be free from obscurity.
......
I was a skilled, dedicated CIA agent, helping to preserve national security,
By searching for and garnering information, as silvery rain ensures purity.
Days were spent perusing foreign material, or viewing international news,
Like walking a maze of crooked, green paths, in a pair of fancy red shoes.
I wrote reports detailing these findings, to share with wise national leaders,
As giddy news of mint spring, is spread by plumed, cherry blossom tweeters.
On fine, fevered days of flurried joys, friends and I joked as in young days,
......