Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Sheila's Poems!

Here are my poems. They are from about age 9 to now. There are LOTS, so if you don't read through them all now, no worries. The poems change a lot from the first to the last, so if you don't read them all, read a few here and there, not in a row. So you know, there are moments in some of the poems, where I have written something that I may have changed my mind on since. Tiny things that I'm not sure I agree with anymore. Every person changes in heart, and soul, and mind, so the person I was 3 years ago, may not be the me of today. Much of what is in these words I still see the same way, but my mind wanders, so you can decide whether or not to take any of these poems seriously. Your choice. ;)

(between every poem is a ~~ )




















All loving.




You talk,

but do not act

You cry,

but cannot mourn.

You look,

but pass me by.

You want,

but will not ask.

You live,

and you will die.


A Mirage

A special friend arrives,
as I sit there at the door.

The wood steps feel so lonely,

I do not see my friend.

I wonder why I have

not seen as my pen flies

o’er and o’er.

My friend…is gone.

I look again, I see my friend,

but alas it’s a mirage.

No…sense is not for me.

I don’t get it.


Whenever my pen flies,

answers come fast,

and then I understand.

The reasons seem to reach me,

I want to know more,

Then it comes.

Quiet night.








If time could suddenly stand still

What would I do with what is left?

I might wait a while and pray,

let imagination stay.

Walking, talking, thinking,

My thoughts drift around now.

Emotions wander.

Though I should ponder,

What lies ahead.

Can’t think, at best.

Words fail me,

What I see,

Means more.

Clear door.





Some days are like moments,

Some moments, like days.

Time still rolls, going on and on.

And my life seems an endless maze.

No, I know, those moments,

are as precious as years,

yet still the speed seems unfair,

and slowly drop tears.

But see, I’ve realized,

this time will never wait.

Don’t waste it on tears,

never let your heart hate.

Sometimes, though, I wonder,

Are tears really wrong?

If they were, why’d God create them?

No, they are no worse than a song.

I wish I truly understood,

all these miniscule abstracts,

I’m pretty sure it’s impossible,

All we fathom are true facts.

They all leave my head spinning,

drifting thoughts without end.

Confusion encircles every emotion.

To my pencil, these thoughts I send


My words have been words of confusion

Thoughts of great pondering I wrote.

My Saviour wasn’t my centre,

My Jesus wasn’t my hope.

I’m now quite sure He wants me to,

do something big for Him.

He wants my heart, my soul, my all,

To run away from sin.

My joy must be full, overflowing!

Acceptance of His love, my all.

I can trust in Him, perfect, all-knowing,

and onto my knees I will fall.

Father, God, forgive them

They know not what they do.

Your words mean so very much to me,

They’re so incredibly, wonderfully true!

So help me, Lord, to understand,

to win this battle of faith,

to lean heavily on your wisdom,

and run well this glorious race.



The wild hills,

The rolling plains,

Wind strikes at will,

Frost sparkles in vain.

From roaring sea

to prairie wide,

They call to me,

to you, and I.

Of joy they speak,

of love, as well,

No secrets keep,

of God they tell!

Of my joyous, bursting heart,

of your joy even bigger,

they sing, none lacking, not a part,

with complete, excited vigour.

The sea of blue,

the plains of gold,

Yes, every hue,

God's hands do hold.

Not a might,

no smallest thing,

From every height,

His praises sing.

I join them too,

in loud song and,

All praise to You,


Dec. 1, 2007


Amazing Time

Amazing time, flying fast.

First year now, tomorrow the last.
A new year dawns, and calls my name,

And at the end, I'm not the same.

I grew, matured, and will still grow,

I'm almost a woman, but still bows,

Ribbons, frills, and lace of girlhood,

Charm me though growing out of childhood.

I still love, and always will,

to sit in breezy fields; be still.

No matter the year, I'll always clutch,

The hand of the Saviour I love so much.

And so as life and dreams do fly,

I will not let time pass them by.


January 1, 2008


Some people so sweetly sing,

I feel and understand as I see their smile.

They may be brash and different, or soft and quietly so.

Their gentle ways, no matter personality,

Have a distinct reflection in my heart.

I feel a tearing, within me,

I know it is not quite right, but still brings me joy.

I lean on The One who is worth knowing,

And still smile at the peace in their habits.

They all know me so well, it's frightening,

But it's a relief that there's nothing to hide.

One anticipates my silent moves,

Another laughs at things I say that truly only I think are worth laughs,

And yet the third explains things in ways so unique, I know I'm the only one.

All of them, they're freeing people, perfectly tailoring themselves to me,

And it brings me peace, and joy and love.

Yes, I feel loved!

None resound that I know, to my 'Glorias', but respect them,

And I long to show them why, but though they--through human instinct?--

Understand every miniscule thing near and dear to my heart;

The heart itself, they cannot fathom, nor come to know right now.

I ask myself why I take time to wonder?

Human curiosity--once again--ruled me,

But not forever.

And I will sing!


The Wings of Life

Life gets all confusing,
I’m starting to grow up.
I start to ask: “Who am I?”

I wonder what direction
God will lead me in.
I shut my eyes
and see a life,
that’s just about to fly.

Still on the ground,
the wind swiftly moving,
beneath my wings.

If God has a plan,
what is it?
Will I be married in five years,
or will it be another twenty?

Are children in my future?
Will I be teaching
or will I be learning
in ten years?

I bow my head,
and consecrate my life
to him once again.
It scares me sometimes,
and I wonder what I’m here for.
But I know there is a reason,
and I’m ready to find out.
God, direct my wings.


Politically Incorrect

Jesus, I want to follow you!
I want to be a servant,
But I don’t know what to do.

Ideas rage in my mind,
Yet I don’t know where to put them.
Here’s a barren, hurting world,
That overflows with opposition.

Pain and sorrow fill my heart,
As young love is crushed, and torn apart.
How do I let her know
That she’s a princess in Your eyes?

Eyes, beautiful eyes, I see the depth.
I watch the fresh, blue sparkle fade away!
Where have all your children gone?
Does anyone sing your praises on and on?

Jesus, who can serve you perfectly?
Or carry out your will?
I’d like to see the future: free,
But I’m afraid I never will!

How can I think ‘outside the box’?
And still have friends on earth?
Is it possible to love you deeply,
while they shun the virgin birth?

She’s a sad, small specimen,
of a twisted, muted light.
He’s depressed, and now un-wanted,
In a society that thinks that’s right.

How could they know?
They couldn’t!
How do I tell them?
I can’t!

What can I do for Jesus, in a politically correct land?


The Life

Many other thoughts do swirl and whirl,

while many other lands do hurt and hurl.
I do not know if I can justify,
life, such a life as destined to I.
Maybe life is not supposed to be,
this kind of strange and stark reality.
Perhaps, is it possible? We have lost a gentle spirit,
a love so sweet and tender and no one will ever hear it.

Then again I marvel at the perfect will of God,
the small and tender babies, whose feet have never trod.
As all the colours blossom in early spring,
these perfect little wonders do gently ring.
The burnt out log and the rotten tree,
remind of the attention we give to ‘me’.
Might if we would ask of God if he would please,
guide us, help us, all our pain would ever cease.


The breezy wind dashes through my hair--

I feel it go, and come again.

I hear the crash o waves on the shore,

thw whistle of the wind,

flying through the woods and over the plains--

and then my face,

rustling my skirt, my hair,

my very being, soul...

it breathes and sighs;

the freshness brings new life and joy.

Like a loving hand it restores me:

The breath of my Creator.

The glint of golden sunlight,

as it follows soaring birds,

and as I breathe, I revel,

in the incredible tidal hand,

that sweeps and smoothes the glistening, white-capped waters

to my own.

How long have young girls marveled

at these magnificent displays?

To be alone with Nature as it revels on its own,

is truly, without wondering,


The fresh sea smell, and fluttering leaves,

they haunt me, and give me peace.

Feb 4-5, 2008


This candlelight, it brings to me,

thoughts that mystify.

It casts its light in harmony,

the dark it does defy.

Analogy, secrets untold,

this candle with it brings.

To fly, unlock the secret hold,

if only I had wings.

March 2008


I'm living in blue, and dreaming in red,

these questions confine, and curiosity scopes out.

The blue, its melancholy, dreamy state,

in life, without meaning, continues on.

The red, with its vibrance,

it's boldness unchallenged.

Only in dreams can my freedom unfold in such a hue.

So as I grow,

and become this true me,

I desire to uncover life's unanswered cares.

With boldness now to enter so,

yet meek in deed.

To live in violet is my desire,

a balance, true, and fresh, so delicate.

It will not confine nor border.

I can live free.

March 8, 2008.


It takes an hour

to spend 5 hours

on an island a universe away.

I spend those moments watching all.



And the life comes through me, rushing in.

Freedom abounds in every living thing.

I'm a changed girl, daughter,

crossing the water,

to fulfill my dreams on the other side.

I want to live the rest of my life,

Away from here.

It is so near.

Takes an hour to reach another world.

It must be so much further out.

But it is not.

This is my lot.

And when I reach that island I

will be free from all constraints.

And when I leave,

My chest does heave,

the tears slip down my soft cheek,

as I long for the next 5 hours,

I'll spend there,

Next time I dare,

To cross the water to another world,

A universe away.

March 2008.


Love fills my soul,

as the surround and understand.

They see my young heart bursting,

emotions swept like wind on sand.

They see the sparkle in my eyes,

and the qeustions on my heart.

See all the dreams within my being,

in my life each plays a part.

In all my dreams questions are answered,

or maybe are not asked.

Reality plays havoc on my dreams.

But with Love and Joy,

and Hope, no boundaries,

we will find our Final Purpose,

with much harmony and Peace.

April 21, 2008


Dividing lines, creating borders.

Must let them go.

Though I'm confused, one glimmer of

understanding lights my way.

That one Light,

holds all my dreams,

as misunderstanding blocks my life.

It cannot grasp

my differences.

Though love I find

in misunderstanding,

In understanding it shines,

and melts confusion.

Lets me be who I am.

Deep down I'm not the me I've always been.

So I look deeper.

And I dream.

April 2008


Why is choosing right, so wrong?

Why is choosing sanity, so insane?

What is with the world, that it just accepts,

and doesn't question what is true?

In a world where no one listens, there is noise.

In a universe where people say that this is it,

They forget all common sense and shut out,

everything unseen and vaguely strange.

If it's hard to understand, they throw it out.

Nothing left to dream our dreams with anymore!

Is that why I am left with all these strangers?

who understand life better than those I know?

Sometimes I think I'm going crazy, because they sit,

and don't do anything with precious lives.

They just blindly accept all that is taught them,

thinking they are so brave to believe like that.

When I dream, and feel euphoric without help,

just Nature, Me, and God, together.

I rest and the questions ask and answers flow,

if they will but they won't always.

So I keep dreaming.

And I keep asking.


The twighlight hour,

through birdsong and gentle sighs,

teaches me,

in words faintly whispered,

in gentle, lonely cries.

I sit and wait.

The Moonlight casts its spell.

Cold creeps up.

I learn by listening.

I listen very well.

For soft new shadows,

Harken now, come, and arise!

Be still now.

Wait for this pretty hour.

Silently wait for the sunrise.

May 14, 2008


I want to go home,

where the Pacific breeze is blowing,

where winter rains are constant.

I want to go home,

where a short boat ride brings quiet, and where the forest beckons me.

And though I mist the situation of our vast Pacific shore,

it's the souls of certain people that I truly miss the most.

I miss our talking, and our music, and amazing moments that I find.

I hope that I can manage to wait,

Until I go home.

July 22, 2008


I feel alone.

I feel so scared.

I am so frightened of what I'll find,

when I turn around,

What will I see?

Is some thought more important than life?

I feel at ease,

though my soul is wild.

I feel this rush of incredible chill.

Who loves me now?

What will I reject?

What should I accept?

Where can I find all the answers I need?

Escapable life.



God planted me, a flower,

in His garden.

He tended me, and through His power,

saw me grow.

He created me, unique,

among the others.

He loves me, and now I seek,

to know Him more.

He showed me I am His,

and I am special.

He said to me "Now look at this

for it is new!"

I am blessed to be the me

that He created.

Within a dull, and grey-blue sea,

of look-alikes.

For I can be this person,

who I am!

By uniqueness, never worsened,

always fresh.

And this is who I am,

and always will be:

The me that God created,

Only one.

October 1, 2008


I am overwhelmed

and my mind feels full,

and I pulse with stressful thought.

I pause.

I listen to the raindrops,

and I feel the crisp night breeze.

I am calm,

and now I see it is true;

I must close my eyes to that fear.

Nothing can haunt me.

When I can be still.

November 11, 2008


On Other Shores

Where is my home?

What is my land?

How can I know?

Or understand?

My home is here.

So far away,

and yet so near,

to touch...

But my home holds not my house.

My land holds not my name.

I know only my feelings.

I will never understand.

November 14, 2008


To My Friend

In the Silence,

I hear noises,

of a hundred loving hugs.

Hug me and feel the sheer glee there held

in my hear, I hold a dream,

of windows high, and moonlit skies,

where every heart shines true.

Of joy between, a laugh, as well, together.

A group of giggling, silly girls,

in all their mischief caught,

only to grin, and hug, and say,

"Let's do it all again!"

Do come and find me here.

I am so lonely.

I know I could find you

if you were here.

Please don't stay away long.

I'm still waiting...

for a hug,

from my dear friend:


Nov. 15, 2008


-Sheila Christine

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