Poetry

I love poetry. I've written quite a few poems myself over the years and I bring them out occasionally. It's usually a therapeutic exercise for me, kind of like journaling or blogging. Here are 2 poems that I've loved for many years.

IF JESUS CAME TO YOUR HOUSE

By Unknown

If Jesus came to your house
To spend some time with you,
If He came unexpected,
I wonder what you’d do.

Oh, I know you’d give your nicest room
To such an honored guest
And all the food you’d give to Him
Would be the very best.

And you would keep assuring Him
You’re glad to have Him there–
That serving Him in your home
Is joy beyond compare.

But when you saw Him coming,
Would you meet Him at the door
With arms outstretched in welcome
To your heavenly visitor?

Or would you have to change your clothes
Before you let Him in
Or hide some magazines
And put the Bible where they’d been

Would you hide your worldly music
and put some hymn books out?
Could you let Jesus walk right
in, or would you rush about?

And I wonder – if the Saviour
spent a day or two with you,
Would you go right on doing, the
things you always do?

Would you go right on saying, the
things you always say?
Or would life for you continue
as it does from day to day?

Would you take Jesus with you
everywhere you go?
Or would you maybe change your
plans for just a day or so?

Would you be glad to have Him
meet your closest friends?
Or would you hope they stay away,
until His visit ends?

Would you be glad to have Him
stay forever on and on?
Or would you sigh with great
relief when He at last was gone?

It might be interesting to know,
the things that you would do,
If Jesus came in person, to spend
some time with you.

THE HOUSE WITH NOBODY IN IT

By: Joyce Kilmer

Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute
And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it

I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two

This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass
And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass
It needs new paint and shingles and the vines should be trimmed and tied
But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside

If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid
I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade
I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be
And I'd find some people who who wanted a home and give it to them for free

Now a new house standing empty, with staring window and door
Looks idle perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store
But there's nothing lonely about it, it cannot be sad and lone
For the lack of something within it that it has never known

But a house that has done what a house should do, a house that has sheltered life
That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife
A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and has held up his stumbling feet
Is the saddest sight, when left alone, that ever your eyes could meet

So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track
I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back
Yet it hurts me to look at the fallen roof and the shutters falling apart
For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart

It's a blustery, cold winter's day. I have lots left to do. God bless.