Friday, December 3, 2010


Adrift on the bosom of this cold earth
Like a motherless child of forgotten birth
Constantly seeking
Endlessly speaking
Striving, in others, to find my worth.

A nameless longing probes the soul
A fierce desire to be made whole
A magnet pull
To be made full
The mark it seems of this life's goal.

Always, always, the beckoning hand -
"Come deeper into My Promised Land.
Walking free
And finding in Me
All the fullness that I have planned."


Simply-Mel said...


Now we talking. :-)

Keep writing.

Olivia said...

Very lovely Allie...

Lynette said...

Oh, this speaks to write so beautifully...never stop.


Kitty Moore said...

Incredible writing - very thought provoking.

allie. said...

@ Mel, Olivia and Lynette - There's remarkable story that goes with this poem.

@ Kitty - Thanks Kitty. And its good to see you blogging again. I love your writing and wait patiently for you to re-emerge :-)

وادي المعرفة said...

You write good poetry. Allie,u know there are ' poets blessed and poets cursed'. YOU are a talented blessed poetess.your theme is well treated, your meter as well as your rhyme have a meaning. And, which is more, your form completes the content. Carry on.