Lost Child (poem) by Walter LaVerne Jones on AuthorsDen

Lost Child
by Walter LaVerne Jones → (All Poetry by Walter LaVerne Jones)
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Man is the last hope of God, how are we doing? Read the hidden poems int he form of trees, just read the lines that make the hidden pine trees. Walt
I For our children we live in continued support taking on spiritual burden requited giving everything that mental images will allow perhaps even our soul from the body of life created every drop of life is dripped into the image of self left from beginning breath to values added in hope of preservation everything is the gift left to view and gather up as pieces of life II Sky skips to hues of gathering dark dancing in twinkle of age sadly lost Who will stay within my shadowed past to see the burn of joy laid openly on the mantle left in eternal cost paid by the books that present place try as I might there is know answer written in form or depth all life is quickly dancing on the stage given to process thoughts in a tune of younger days all eventually will lay dormant on a sacrifice III living a part of time monitored in the peace of prayer of the lingering scopes vision spent in the hell of preparation pieces in sorrow bend the demons created by man to hold him portion of mend is the eventual expansion of soul dancing in the value each wonder moves along the path perfect for self and others to escape into the world going faster than time will allow tattered is the paced victim perception a need to mind a crying screaming body of thought laid cold on a altar feelings again perpetuate the endless tearing of the fire consuming inept understanding IV which of us is the barrier of the banner kept in place for march takes the load forward in the dream screaming volumes of hate and place of broken dreams dumped on the venue exposing the truth and vision of heaven earned put the puzzle together perceptible the language cry in its bounty for where else will you go a star falls as the dawn is beckoned forward from the wrath of a unforgiving God sleep in hell the sky lights the morning after each piece of living is crippled in the words laid by preachers flashes of happiness determined to be greased skids to hell no place with out pain brings heaven blessed in viewed reason man escapes the perpetual predetermination of all knowing society blessed V acceptance is will given in the mind of a creation from dirt and ash of lies kept in the books of time administered to each of those read until truth envisions statements of lingering fears no others will enter the trap mixes too a bit of blood and wine served upon the table of salvation waiting promise be there to view and be viewed who the pick or the axe the fire or the water will it burn value seen when all else is used to explain consumption or loss tasted in the field of life day breaks as a warning to the wander soul left to fend for itself no guidance given here by me world is filled hurt and expansion of pain reason not clear just man searching for creation or self VI scents of fresh bottles dance among the weeds placed in the flowers left in needles used to abuse the nature and the mind lost white dances dreams are obstacles to a being as free as the wind seeking cloud shelter free as they allow the view of fear to enter peace escapes the soul lent a value past creeps forward anew the voice of the soul cries out on the deaf ears of God Child of my body takes the dream from me and drops to bended knee redemption sought taken from the chemical pit of man dumped in version to control the mind released pain a sorrow shakes slow mental screaming dead dreams of past chronicles expressed by others trapped inside VII will the blood ever purify the soul and hate created in this world of slow process days weeks years love cost as my sky cries in anger left see the fear on the face candles light the way marble floor takes the prayer virgin accepts the challenge and the days blend until the demons are all but gone voice takes the child to the young women searching for place and love shared forever dead old man rocks child of his life in slow motion legs dangle and arms wrap tears do feel his pain future is new but dissolved in the bottle given to ease the last obstacle of forgiven position barred the world has life but is it worth the price to pay for acceptance and vibrant colors bent on destruction VIII experience to guide fields burned over from the threshing of weed taste new teddy bears in dreams or is nightmare they must live for man younger days comfort need as the imagination still exists but reality tests grow up and take the role found it is bitter no place for man used and abused home is more than where the heart is it is the last place a love has a chance to grow it is four walls safe from the burn going down and the child is now an adult reaching hope Prayer allows sleep and in it dreams of life fulfilled in the shadow of day yet to come to be born the mind to move forward escapes eh hell created by the man seeking souls to fill his pot damnation IX reality of living brings hope here is the answer for breath is real survival is the key to strong will mental relief exposed in faith waiting drawn from the depth of all trying past exposed salvation is the answer Sun burns the window and fades shadow all life does bring hope on the dawn mistakes made as joy once again dances in beams of never ending light cast forward old falls to new as the soul looks past the growth in age takes its place on man growing dances in the joy seen bent by rose colored glass just outside reach but within the imagination walls take the warmth of family and lets the wonder of faith linger inside the promises made by time X in the cell of me scattered about the vision and expectation of society a touch upon my cheek brings smiles and hope once again and the love beams face to face all recognition calls forward the sincerity of heart and soul found in hope silly daddy horsy ride please, just hold me and let the heat escape and the pain fade away in the shadow of hell we walk the thin line of escape or consumption but love will prevail a gift dust upon the floor mixes with the wisp of freedom formed and the images formed smiles upon me all across the room life is reborn to the music memories buried in the reality of life to be lived reality Candles flicker and the voice of life sings in the present and the future new and growing bonds family

Reviewed by Mitzi Jackson

Reviewed on February 22, 2005

this is an outstanding epic of family, innocence, memories
moving through time...very moving very deep

Reviewed by Walter Jones

Reviewed on February 21, 2005

Reviewed by Tinka Boukes

Super Write...and in the shape of many Pine trees!!

Love Tinka

Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader)

Reviewed on February 20, 2005

I am going to have reread this one again to get the full meaning of this very powerful poem.