The hounds of happiness have been taught well
By master Guilty Fear to seek out all
The hearts where mirth and joyful feelings dwell;
The sound of glee and laughter is their call.
The hounds don’t live in time, or dwell in space,
But they can always find a place on earth;
The minds and hearts of people they do chase,
For they devour jealously all mirth.
The hounds detect all sounds and smell each scent;
Each laugh is heard throughout their darkened sphere;
They shred your life until your days are spent,
And chase to hell where there’s no hope or cheer.
We can escape the growling hunting hounds,
When fear is gone and only love abounds.
This poem is a new sonnet about an old idea.
Two farmers walked out into their own fields;
They planted all of their thoughts in the ground;
Each one must partake of what his land yields,
For what each man sowed was what did abound.
The first farmer planted thoughts that were good;
He sowed what was beneficial to share;
He sowed compassion as well as he could;
The plants that grew supplied him with good fare.
The next farmer planted thoughts that were base;
He sowed hatred and fear in all of his foes;
He ate his produce at the marketplace,
And he became full of pains and of woes.
The very thoughts that you sow and you mete
Are those you will have to take and to eat.
This is a sonnet about a decision that we make every day. Our actions reveal which decision we have made.
“For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Matthew 16:25-26 NASB)
Some people will do whatever they can
To preserve their body another day;
They think that the flesh is what makes the man;
The instinct to live is what they obey.
Some try to nurture their soul while on earth;
They believe that self-knowledge is king;
They see that flesh goes through death and rebirth,
And that life is a spiritual thing.
It is important to think and decide,
Whether the soul is more worthy of care,
Or with our flesh and bones we should side,
For our loyalty we always declare.
When at last your body yields to decay,
Will you look on your soul with dismay?
This poem is a Shakespearean sonnet about believers, atheists, and agnostics.
Believers tell us daily, “God is there,”
Although no one has proved that he exists;
Their only weakness is that they’re aware
That doubt and worry in their minds persists.
The atheists do tell us, “God is not;
Forget the fairy stories you believe;
We must remove, from earth, all of this rot;
Your pastors, priests, and teachers do deceive.”
Agnostics freely tell us, “God may be;
However, we are not, like you, so sure;
We will not judge the matter till we see,
Until the thoughts we think become mature.”
Of these, how can I know which view to trust?
I will believe my life comes not from dust.
[The Kansas song says that we are “Dust In The Wind,” but maybe we are really wind (spirit) in the dust.]
This poem is a Shakespearean sonnet.
The roundabout is going in reverse,
And people see and judge the fading past;
The riders greet each other with a curse;
The music makes a screeching, blaring blast.
The carousel begins to slow, and then
The ride and music stop, and all is calm;
And after endless time has passed, a wren
Appears and breaks the silence with a psalm.
The ride again begins to move around;
The riders, moving forward, now can see;
The blessings falling from their lips abound,
And music from their hearts does set them free.
So how did ride and riders change their course?
By spreading love and pardon from the Source.
This is a Shakespearean sonnet about love. It is a response to the song “Never As Good As The First Time” by Sade.
One day, a million years or greater hence
The universe will be ripe, and so old
That there will be no myst’ry or suspense
For heart or eye to ponder or behold
On earth, we’ll be the last embodied souls
Two happy partners who will touch and clasp
To make, from two halves, two unsullied wholes
As we did in the garden, ere the asp
And heaven, as a witness glad, will share
The final climax of all earthly love
For joy will ripple through the ready air
And merge with the perfection of above
Then bodies we no longer will attend
For it is fast to heaven we’ll ascend