P.S. I Love You Poems of P.S. Colley

  A Bigot's Prayer Because we are often taught to think what another man says is right, We are victims of grave errors until God must shed some light. Too often we hide from our brothers behind masks of man's design, Refusing to share with another the beauty of peace in God's time. God may forgive me my bigotry, but how do I meet the eyes Of my neglected and heart-heavy brother, who sees my excuse a white lie? I beg of you, brother, forgiveness, that I may take your hand in mine And together, with God, search for the beauty of peace in God's time. We can worship together in fine churches crafted of both our design. We can blend our cultures together until there is no "yours" or "mine" . And then God will smile upon us as an endless light of peace shall shine, And we'll laugh at man's misguided bigots as we seek the beauty of peace in God's time. ~P.S. Colley~

 God's Unicorn Into man's world God's unicorn Flies and thus bright hope is born That legends live and myths are true That time and worlds begin anew. For in man's world God's unicorn Sees and feels the helpless mourn, Entrapped in snares of man's design, Where the world is sad to find. And for man's world God's unicorn Weeps and sleeps her peaceless scorn, Appalled and galled by all she sees. For her there is no peace. But to man's world God's unicorn Armed with power's sacred horn, Shares her message of truth and light, Inching towards the mountain height. Not of man's world God's unicorn remains pure and chaste, remains untorn by foolish words and evil deeds, her master's voice she willingly heeds. Thus, for man's world God's unicorn becomes the beacon midst the storm. So strange, unique, so rare, so wise, she seems a myth to unchaste eyes. Too soon man's world and God's unicorn shall be renewed, shall be reborn...

    Covenant As one walks tall through halls of life's learning places,  sometimes with a scowl most foul and frightening,  there comes a slight of a smile's effulgence enlightening,  radiating warmth to embrace tender cherubic faces. For men are born for zealous joy, not for jealous glory, trapped in godless webs within a lost, forsaken place, where no goodness is left for anyone, except their mortal story of sweetest salvation 's divine nectar, or bitterest taste of death's disgrace. May time's breath breathe fresh and freely   each merciful, momentous fond memory  that joyfully sings of aspiring mortal growth, to most gently heal and mend   the most broken hearts of men, entwined in shared eternal, solemn, sacred, oaths. ~P.S. Colley~

I'm Sorry I'm sorry, friend, for harsh words. I'm sorry, friend, for pain. Although words come out so easily they can never be captured , again. And like harsh words, and painful thoughts, Our love should come easily, too. Flowing freely from a forgiving heart to be recaptured in each simple thing we do. I never said that I didn't love you. I never said that I didn't care. I only said a million words that stung the midnight air. And like willow arms wisping in the wind, Words lash and sting and strike, Often leaving an open warrior's wound  that never heals just right. I'm sorry friend for those words. I'm sorry for their pain. Yet, sorry cannot erase a mind or capture "us" again. So, like a child, I gaze at you, Praying you will understand that I did not mean to hurt you so, Only to extend my hand. ~ P.S. Colley ~