Cowardly Spirit

Poem By Sarah Andrews Stark

I must seek out conventions robe
To wrap around my nakedness
For I discern the piercing probe
Of malice, mirth and bitterness
That round this weary spirit play
Of thoughts I cannot rise above
Of minds so human that they sway
And eyes that cannot look with love.

Tis not my wish to don that gown
To stand with false somatology
To play the part of fool and clown
And hide with false apology
But this weak cry can never ring
Above the rushing, roaring tide
It quakes before that fearful sting
And from all mankind seek to hide.

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Old Time Preaching

Why are you settin in that rockin chair
Paintin you nails and combin your hair
A posin and primpin in the lookin glass
Just awaitin for Jesus to cut your grass?

A Little Dust

Who am I, so small betwixt the earth and sky,
To give advice to other men, to answer why,
To smile serenely on my way, to say my way is right?
I am so small compared to all the others in God's sight.