Monday, July 6, 2015

An Autobiographical Poem





 
 
The Footsteps of a Giant
 
I was awaiting sleep,
The sooner the sleep the sooner the dawn will greet,
There was much to look forward to every day,
New things to imagine and  new games to play.
 
Get comfortable I say,
Roll one way then another,
Never on my back,
Left side,
Right side,
Stop.
What is that?
 
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
 
A throb filling my right ear,
So loud,
So strange I am filled with fear.
On the left side I roll,
Now it's gone,
My eyelids droop,
Nothing to it.
Just wait for the dawn.
 
Almost asleep,
I still roll now and then,
Belly,
Right side,
There it is again!
 
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
 
I'm wide awake now,
And that way I will remain,
Unless I can find some way to explain.
The imagination runs wild,
Thus is the way of a child.
 
To make the bothersome fear flee,
I synthesize an easy simile,
The thumps are like the footsteps of a giant
As he tends the garden by his castle in the clouds,
 
With that matter settled,
I feel safe and snug in my little bed,
No need to worry,
It's just the giant in my head.
 
                                                    
                                                      By: EJ Norris
 
 
 
 

Thursday, July 2, 2015





                                                           Image result for Shepherd at night



                                                                  Psalmist

                              A shepherd boy in a dark filled field,
                                             With light that only a fire doth yield,
                                             His friend the staff against one shoulder,
                                             He pulls his cloak tight,
                                             The night feels colder and colder.

                                             While his sheep rest
                                              He keeps watch through the night,
                                              Gazing upward to stars silvery and bright,

                                              To him it is simple,
                                               Faith in someone unseen,
                                               It is not superstition,
                                               Proven theory,
                                              Manipulation,
                                              Or some dream,
                                              Rather it is what he knows in his heart,
                                              Deep down we all know the source of the
                                              Universe art.

                                              He ponders with great pleasure
                                              The artists fine skill,
                                              He whispers a prayer,
                                              And his life is so filled. 

                                              This is no magic pill for what ails of aches,
                                              Nor a ticket to make you powerful and great.
                                               In the world today,
                                              Where time needs to catch up,
                                               In this world so locked in temporary pleasures,
                                              Faith is never enough.

                                              Think not only of today,
                                              Think of what selfish tomorrows will bring,
                                             Remember the psalmist and the song he doth sing.
                             

                                                                                             Written by: EJ Norris


Wednesday, July 1, 2015