Poets Forum
O Faithful One born for all mankind pure in heart sinless man you are gave up your riches for all the world that they may live abundantly in life
O Faithful One your human body torn in pieces the cross you carried, with blood and sweat
We waited for you on resurrection day
— Kathy Easter
Traskwood
GOD GAVE HIS SON
I am just traveling in this world of sin.
I would be dying with no home within. I wouldn’t see heaven when victory’s won.
Life would be hopeless, but God gave His Son. You are a traveler in this old world too,
I’m going to heaven, how about you?
He died to cleanse you from your sin.
Open your heart and let him come in.
God gave His Son to die on a tree.
He died for all, even me.
— Virgie Garner
Benton
WALKING WITH THE MASTER
I walked with my Master this morning to a hill called Calvary; all around there were people far as the eye could see.
Some were crying in sorrow, some were glad of His pain.
And some went away not knowing that day was the one when the Master came.
Oh, that hill is a bitter reminder; and a joy that filled me with awe came over my shivering body, for I will always know what I saw. He cried to His Father in heaven. “They do not know what they do.” And then the words, “It is finished,” as he hung there for me and you.
— Betty Heidelberger
Deceased
AMID HIS SILENCE
He does not know the sod lies heavy on his grave or that I come calling in September.
He is too asleep from suffering complications of the stroke.
His grave is carpeted in green, the year of his demise engraved upon his stone.
Peace prevails amid his silence, and I do not wish again for him the agony of dying.
— Harding Stedler Deceased
THE SALMONS WORK
Salmon, swimming, shining bright, Striving upstream day and night.
Past the hungry seals and bears, Swimming free from man-made snares.
When your arduous journey’s done... Little hatchlings one by one.
Although you die, your life goes on; You rise again with each new spawn. — Lucy Rhodes Little Rock
A TRIBUTE TO POETS
Poets paint leaves with words that rhyme; put love to music and love in real time.
And like artists, musicians, actors, and the like, poets tell their own stories between the lines.
But only for a while and then they move on from the poet’s roundtable to heaven’s theater-in-the-round!
Leaving behind a storied past— Previous moments in time Spent with family and friends, Making memories that rhyme. — Mike Pafundi
Deceased
To submit poems for publication, please send poems of 16 or fewer lines to Dennis Patton, 2512 Springhill Circle, Alexander, AR 72002, or patton_dr@hotmail. com. Poets’ Roundtable of Arkansas is scheduled to meet on May 18, 2024, at the Parkview United Methodist Church, 514 North Border Street, Benton.