What Was Only Ours

Samson, you disappoint me.
You let me down.
After so many years of nurturing,
Of personally preparing you,
And giving you strength like no other.
After everything you have meant to me,
I have meant so little to you
That you would kiss away that strength
With the breath from your lips.
Words that betray.
Words that reveal.
Words that invite the enemy
To take you away from me.
You have given yourself over to them.
And when you have awakened
From your lullaby of love,
You will find yourself abandoned…
Chained… imprisoned… and alone.
And the strength you’ve come to rely on
Will be gone.
How you grieve me.
How you break my heart.
You have allowed evil to separate us
When I long to hold you so close
And wish you had trusted me,
That you had protected what was only ours.

12-9-2016 Friday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: Samson’s Secret Strength

Liquid Life

Liquid pleasure from head to toe,
every inch of my skin enjoys you so.
Soothing and warming, and playfully wild.
You easily bring my face a smile.
Under your spell when bathed in your deep,
a long day with you brings such sweet sleep.
Yet even a moment to get a little wet
is worth all the pleasure I get.
Playful and fun, I look forward to you
and swimming in your darling blue.
Whether in warmth or to enjoy the cool,
there’s a beautiful liquid life in a pool.

12-31-16 written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: Pool Therapy

How Dare You!

How dare you show me life only to dangle it in front of me.
How dare you steal the time from me that you complain about.
I am so filled with anger at your insensitivity and rudeness.
You only care that life has not yet taken me out.
You preach and pretend to seek what’s best,
But it’s only if what’s convenient for you.
If it doesn’t fit your protocol, timing, or understanding,
You give up and I am through.
You cruel and selfish degree.
You rob life and health from me.
It’s easy to blame someone else
For what you can’t or won’t help.
Your patience, your time, even your passion
Are no match for my anxiety against your compassion.
How dare you show me life.
How dare you dangle it in front of the dying.
What do you care at the end of the day,
As long as you don’t have to see me crying?
Well you’ll get your wish soon enough.
Death will show it’s stronger than you.
Then back to life you go, as I disappear.
Isn’t that what you always do?

12-15-16 written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: One of my doctors

My Silent Scream

My pen, my pen… it begs to cry,
Yet the empty lines seem to imply.
I do cry… I scream… and I scream,
By finding the words in only a dream…
A dream that cannot even find a way
To voice my cry or try to convey.
My heart… my soul… it searches long.
I cannot even write it in a song.
So many ghosts and waiting villains
Make it clear, “They’ll be no tellings.”
The flesh itself weakens fast.
Memories and strength don’t last.
And in the end who really cares?
God does… and every burden I bear.
If my mind is so drawn away from him,
Then he bids me, “Deal with them!”
And just as sure as he bids me to,
He lovingly whispers, “This is my testimony for you.”
So on and on I seek, as I pray…
Waiting for the words to come my way.

12-9-16 written by Gail

The Harlot of Life (Prov.7)

Father, life comes at us like a harlot,
with its many comforts and flatteries.
Most often it is that soft and tender soul
who knows exactly how we feel,
and expresses how they care when no one else does,
or at least not like we need.
It is that wicked smile that says,
You don’t need to let things get you down.
You are better than that, deserve more than that.
You deserve good things.
You deserve to feel happy. You deserve to be happy.
Let me make you happy.” says the harlot of life.
“Let me shelter you from that which threatens to steal your happiness.
Let me be strong for you while being so tender to you.”
All so this harlot can feel happy.
But she is happiest when the giving of pleasure is filled
and it is her turn to receive pleasure.

Her pleasure is to be the one who inflicts the pain, the sadness, the destruction.
Her goal all along was to prove that she could win the soul.
Protect us, Lord, from the harlot of life.
Our souls are weak from hunger and oppression.
Keep us for you. Save us for our First Love.
The love that truly wants what’s best for us,
even if it means protecting us from what we want,
or taking us through the hardship that will prepare us from what is really to come yet.
Help us to cling to you when we feel scared.
Help us to spend time with you when we are lonely.
Help us to seek you when we are lost.
Help us to read your word when we need wisdom or guidance.
Help us to pray to you when we need answers.
Help us to listen when we need to hear.
Help us to hear when we need to listen.
Help us to remember that your heart longs for ours.
Help us to remember that we love you because you first loved us.
And when we need proof, help us to remember the cross.
May your tenderness and strength,
your sacrifice and shelter protect us from the harlot of life.
May your word and Spirit protect us from every form of harlot.
May you remain our First Love.

10-15-16 written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: Proverbs 7

Fine Lines

These fine lines that separate me and You,
impose on being free to confide.
Those evil words having to enter Your ears
leave my pen tongue tied.
So many reasons not to revisit.
So many reasons I have no choice.
The paths of yore are so dark and evil.
You tell me to listen for Your voice.
Destructive thoughts that seem to persuade
continue to grip so tight.
The father of confusion suggests, “Doubt.”
But You clearly state, “Fight!”
How do I address such ugly matters
with a Holy and Reverent God?
How can I be so sure my memories
are the source for the problems I’ve got?
Approaching the edge, I realize
I’ve already crossed.
I’m just trying to leave a trail
so I won’t get lost.
Lovingly rebuking me, “That’s not Faith,”
You encourage me to go on.
Faith is not faith
unless it’s You I am counting on.
Step by step,
I’m walking with You.
Whatever lies ahead,
You will see me through.

12-12-16 Monday
written by Gail Brookshire

That Moment of a Lasting Impression

A moment just with You
delightfully surprising my day,
Your voice gently speaking
while caressing my heart in Your way,
brings such an exquisite embrace
and strengthens me anew.
No one has ever been as intimate.
No one ever could but You.
You join me for that sweet whisper.
You gently move my hair.
Without too many words
You express how much You care.
Thank You for taking the moment.
Thank You for the tender expression.
Thank You for being that moment
of a lasting impression.

April 2016
written by Gail Brookshire

You Don’t Say

Days come and go.
Events occur and pass.
Many questions go unanswered
because they’re never asked.
The clouds are gazed upon.
The days are far spent.
No words are heard in the wind,
though I pause to listen.
Are You trying to speak?
Are You trying to convey?
Am I genuinely focused?
Am I waiting to obey?
Do I trust Your silence?
Do I trust Your way?
When You only ask for faith,
do I trust what You don’t say?

April, 2016 written by Gail Brookshire

Permission to Pen

So freeing is the pen that dances on the page.
So beautiful is the ink that displays.
So strong is the paper that supports.
So refreshing are the words that convey.
How does one go without the pen?
How does one restrain the ink?
How does one avoid the paper?
How does one refrain what they think?
It is such a challenge not to pen.
A challenge to keep the ink dry.
The paper waits in agony
To let the mind cry.
“Here am I. I do exist! My thoughts are burning within!”
They wait for God’s Holy Spirit to permit, “Begin.”

3-12-16
written by Gail Brookshire