Most of you have undoubtedly heard the phrase, poet and don’t know it. I may fall into that category; I am not sure. One thing I am sure of is that at times the Holy Spirit prods me to put pen to poem.
More than once, I awake with a poem on my heart. In fact, one of the longest poems in my poetry book about to be published was written about 3:30 am. I am not well versed enough to write many unusual poetry forms or poems that do not rhyme. I am just me, An old chunk o’ Kentucky coal, That’s reachin’ out to touch a soul.
I dedicate this book first to my mom, Evelyn Faris Earhart, for Mother’s Day and also to any who might benefit from it, however few that may be. I have written much more prose than poetry, but I am willing to follow His leading. I pray these poems may be a ‘Divine Encounter’ for someone and give someone some Light Between the Lines.
The title of my poetry book, Light Between The Lines, is meant to infer that there would be some Good News of the Gospel between the lines of my poetry. Enjoy!
SOLI DEO GLORIA
Maysville
In Maysville, where the river flows, a town of charm and grace,
With rolling hills and skies so blue, a peaceful, timeless place.
The river’s gentle waters gleam, reflecting history’s light,
Where steamboats once did ply their trade, and Simon Kenton showed his might.
Brick streets and quaint, old-fashioned homes tell tales of days gone by,
Of Daniel Boone and settlers’ dreams and Shawnee braves’ war cry.
The bridge stands tall, a sentinel connecting shore to shore,
A symbol of the ties that bind as poets/artists still explore
the railroad underground of lore through memories saved by Jerry Gore.
Skip Werline paints, his talents glow,
Bill Smoot tells tales that ever grow.
In autumn’s gold and summer’s green,
Steve White doth paint of nature’s scenes.
So famous people quickly came,
Of Feldhaus, Lofton, Miller fame,
Where Clooneys all did act and sing.
Moreover, came Elisha Green,
As preachers came upon the scene.
And courts did judges truly need
Came therefore Stanley Forman Reed
And Springdale born ol’ Judge Roy Bean.
Where Mayors Cotterill, Cartmell led
So did Hord and Litton tread
So, travelers after many miles,
Found Maysville full of heartfelt smiles,
Where old Ron Bailey history keeps,
Our hearts find final rest and peace.
Joshua 24:15
A Heart That Couldn’t Sleep Last Night
(written one sleepless night at 3:30am)
A Heart that could not sleep last night
For souls that anguish far below
And baptistries unused above
Would speak of things more tragic still
Of hearts become as cold as stone.
When in the rush of daily things
Of jobs and coin and mortal fare
Why can we not more clearly see
What dangers lurk beyond the veil
And press t’ward legacies beyond
Where moth and rust cannot prevail.
And on the final day, we dwell
Shall truth the final ledger tell
We might have done a better job
To run a race where some prevail
But in the last analysis
It won’t much matter where we fit
As long as we have steered our course
To let our Savior settle it.
Matthew 6:33
Light Between the Lines
In the silence of the morning’s grace,
Where gentle hope and mercy intertwine,
The sacred whispers find their place—
There is a light between the lines.
Through ancient words on faded page,
Faith glimmers quiet, undefined.
Wisdom gleams beyond each age,
Guiding hearts between the lines.
When doubt obscures the written truth,
And shadows fall on hearts confined,
God’s promise shines—a living proof—
A light eternal, between the lines.
In prayer, in song, in silent plea,
In every verse our souls align.
We seek, we find, we come to see
God’s Spirit glows between the lines.
So let us read with Spirit’s eyes,
And listen with a heart inclined.
For faith reveals, and love replies—
Remains a light between the lines.
John 1:5
