03-20-2015, 05:46 AM
Marathon- edit 2 (tectak, ellijam, Bena, billy)
Inspire the race with love and gratitude,'
for what you reap rests on right attitude.
Some run the race with body, heart and soul,
knowing clear choice and chance affect the goal.
In paper pants we waddle, then we dance,
then race to our next date seeking romance.
We climb tall mountains striving for the stars
and stroll seductive gardens that screen scars.
While tasting fruits we harvest what we need.
Truth is; some place along the path we'll bleed.
Invigorate your strength to sprint anew.
Trust trails of truth; float rivers by canoe.
Observe the ripened grapes upon the vine
that to our lips tastes sweet like fresh pressed wine.
The sunlight bright upon a face of grace,
which Eros' songs of love lure to embrace.
Keeping pace, the marathon unfolding,
our days of life are racing and eroding.
Escape from self, the thought, we try to run,
but time speaks to our flesh to rest in sun.
Cold rain beats down a long and deep dark path.
A bolt of lightning strikes with satan's wrath.
Yet God arrives to sabotage that season
with grace, our love and gratitude the reason.
g.e.Kaye edit 3/23/15
Marathon-edit 1 (ellijam, Bena, billy, tectak)
Incline the race to love and gratefulness,
that rugged roads not end in emptiness.
Some run the race with body, heart and soul,
where spirit and mere chance define the goal.
While tasting fruits we harvest what we need,
though truth lay somewhere along the path we'll bleed.
In paper pants we waddle, then we dance,
then speed to our next date seeking romance.
We climb tall mountains striving for the stars
and stroll seductive gardens hiding scars.
Behold the ripened grapes upon the vine,
that to our lips tastes sweet like virgin wine.
The sunlight bright upon a face of grace,
which Eros songs of love lure to embrace.
Keeping pace, eternal time unfolding
our days of life are racing to eroding.
Someone is chasing you, you look around;
you Are that shadow, longing to be found.
Escape from self, the thought, how can I hide,
when mental stress persists; my body fried.
Cold rain beats down a long and deep dark path,
a bolt of lightening strikes with satan's wrath.
But God may come to shatter that season,
by grace, our love and gratefulness a reason.
Marathon
Incline they race to love and gratefulness
that rugged roads lean not to emptiness.
Though fervent flesh facilitates our need,
truth lay somewhere on the road we'll bleed.
Some run the race in flesh with heart ad soul,
where spirit and mere chance define the goal.
In paper pants we waddle, then we dance,
then speed to our next date in velvet pants.
We climb tall mountains shooting for the stars
and stroll seductive gardens full of scars.
Behold the ripened grapes upon the vine
that to our lips sweet tastes the virgin wine.
The morning sun shines on a face of grace
while Eros sings his songs to plead his place.
Keeping pace, eternal time unfolding,
our days of flesh are racing to eroding.
Someone is chasing you, you look around,
it's your shadow's desperation to be found.
Escape from self, the thought, where can I hide;
my flesh of stress resists, my mind declined.
Cold rain beats down a long and deep dark path,
a bolt of lightning strikes with satan's wrath.
But God may come, to dispossess that season,
by grace, our love and gratefulness a reason.
g.e.Kaye 3/18/15
Inspire the race with love and gratitude,'
for what you reap rests on right attitude.
Some run the race with body, heart and soul,
knowing clear choice and chance affect the goal.
In paper pants we waddle, then we dance,
then race to our next date seeking romance.
We climb tall mountains striving for the stars
and stroll seductive gardens that screen scars.
While tasting fruits we harvest what we need.
Truth is; some place along the path we'll bleed.
Invigorate your strength to sprint anew.
Trust trails of truth; float rivers by canoe.
Observe the ripened grapes upon the vine
that to our lips tastes sweet like fresh pressed wine.
The sunlight bright upon a face of grace,
which Eros' songs of love lure to embrace.
Keeping pace, the marathon unfolding,
our days of life are racing and eroding.
Escape from self, the thought, we try to run,
but time speaks to our flesh to rest in sun.
Cold rain beats down a long and deep dark path.
A bolt of lightning strikes with satan's wrath.
Yet God arrives to sabotage that season
with grace, our love and gratitude the reason.
g.e.Kaye edit 3/23/15
Marathon-edit 1 (ellijam, Bena, billy, tectak)
Incline the race to love and gratefulness,
that rugged roads not end in emptiness.
Some run the race with body, heart and soul,
where spirit and mere chance define the goal.
While tasting fruits we harvest what we need,
though truth lay somewhere along the path we'll bleed.
In paper pants we waddle, then we dance,
then speed to our next date seeking romance.
We climb tall mountains striving for the stars
and stroll seductive gardens hiding scars.
Behold the ripened grapes upon the vine,
that to our lips tastes sweet like virgin wine.
The sunlight bright upon a face of grace,
which Eros songs of love lure to embrace.
Keeping pace, eternal time unfolding
our days of life are racing to eroding.
Someone is chasing you, you look around;
you Are that shadow, longing to be found.
Escape from self, the thought, how can I hide,
when mental stress persists; my body fried.
Cold rain beats down a long and deep dark path,
a bolt of lightening strikes with satan's wrath.
But God may come to shatter that season,
by grace, our love and gratefulness a reason.
Marathon
Incline they race to love and gratefulness
that rugged roads lean not to emptiness.
Though fervent flesh facilitates our need,
truth lay somewhere on the road we'll bleed.
Some run the race in flesh with heart ad soul,
where spirit and mere chance define the goal.
In paper pants we waddle, then we dance,
then speed to our next date in velvet pants.
We climb tall mountains shooting for the stars
and stroll seductive gardens full of scars.
Behold the ripened grapes upon the vine
that to our lips sweet tastes the virgin wine.
The morning sun shines on a face of grace
while Eros sings his songs to plead his place.
Keeping pace, eternal time unfolding,
our days of flesh are racing to eroding.
Someone is chasing you, you look around,
it's your shadow's desperation to be found.
Escape from self, the thought, where can I hide;
my flesh of stress resists, my mind declined.
Cold rain beats down a long and deep dark path,
a bolt of lightning strikes with satan's wrath.
But God may come, to dispossess that season,
by grace, our love and gratefulness a reason.
g.e.Kaye 3/18/15