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Deborah Russell Poem
Seven-Up Christian
Where did you leave faith or let go?
Do not hide or flee its crazy, whoa!
There’s one able to fix do not quit
prayer is the key to open the kit.
Your Bible its time to look inside
let it open your eyes it will guide!
It gives one no time for an alibi!
A letter from God to you it tells no lie.
Are you there sampling the bait of sin
like those in church but sin is within.
Why are you pretending it’s not the cure?
The hypocrites nibble at Satan’s lure
act one way and live another not rare
Satan means to hook do let it scare!
Stop the nonsense you know it's wrong.
Never play with sin be wise don’t go along!
By Deborah Ann Russell
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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Deborah Russell Poem
Open My Eyes
Lord, give me vision, let me see.
Open my eyes help me to achieve.
Like an Eagle that’s in flight.
Give me true vision and sight.
Help me not to doubt but believe.
Whenever the safe nest, I do leave.
While I soar over the lowly clouds
In reverence to you not proud.
Your caring heart to be in mine
Letting others know what is thine.
You are the one I wish to please,
Time for prayer if I want to seize.
Grant me wisdom for the task.
Enable me to touch a heart, I ask.
People that are in the valley below.
Where the steps are hard, spirit low.
If you give me the words to say.
I want to show them a brighter day.
Shining forth like a beacon-light.
A brand new day for those in the night.
Cleanse the inner parts of my heart.
Let your Spirit come in and impart.
Simply I yearn for your fire
To ignite a spark or to inspire.
Who am I but a vessel to fill?
Guide me according to your will.
Pour love into my heart from you.
For they long to hear what is true.
By tiptoe
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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Deborah Russell Poem
Nature’s Best
A coolness of the breeze whispers
Among the trees in a frolic lisper
As the squirrels chatter away
and a dog chases a boy in play.
The rose opens for all to see
God’s image of art so carefree.
Clouds cover and put sun abed
time to prepare for what’s ahead,
Raindrops splatter on forest floor
Thunder echoes a tremendous roar
Temperature lowers, snow falls,
Sun arises it slowly melts all.
Water then flows so we can thrive
gives life to all that live and strive
Spring allows a rosebush to grow
Summer permits an artistic show
Fall leaves timidly surrender
To winter and its frosty splendor.
By tiptoe
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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Deborah Russell Poem
What Is Up, Christian?
Where did your faith go?
Did it run off or flee, whoa!
God is able to fix the hit.
Step aside time to open the kit.
The Bible gives a complete tour.
A letter to you from God so pure.
Pray he will guide your eyesight.
There within you will find a light.
Fears that taunt and dare.
So fierce they’re giants that scare.
You are filled inside with terrors.
Do you believe the lies or errors?
A fish that tastes the bait of failure.
Such are weapons of Satan, his lures.
Stop the nibbling it leads wrong.
There’s a time to let go, be strong.
By tiptoe
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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Deborah Russell Poem
God I Need Your Help
Sometimes I just need to sit back and relax.
No person can harm me if God is for me.
Thinking of this the other night after work
Felt I didn’t fit in with the younger group.
A little too slow didn’t have much in common.
I have need of money just can’t leave the job.
Have you ever felt this way I’m sure you have?
Put it aside but the thoughts were still bugging me.
Then began to surf on the internet on face book
There I came across this posted message.
If God is for us who can be against us.
It touched my heart and I began to think.
Yes, it’s in the word of God for I’ve read it before.
Simple enough to understand but so profound.
How can I let my spirit know that it’s not a lie?
The tempter tries to persuade me that this is not so.
Depression and discouragement seem to hold hands.
Tools that the demons use all the time to make me fear.
Wonder if my life is ever going to amount to much?
Do I focus on the problems instead of God’s provision?
Open my spiritual sight so that I can see you’re there for me.
Help me to give it all to you and not pick it up again.
I’ve read in your word that if I ask you will give me wisdom.
Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.
By Deborah Ann Russell
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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Deborah Russell Poem
No Greater Gift
A man that knew our grief
on the cross forgave a thief.
No greater gift of worth
sent down to the earth
in a manger born anew.
His heart of love beat for you
one of flesh not of stone
gave His life for us to atone.
Who felt our pain and shame
though did not come to blame.
Sought for sinners to meet
did not from them retreat
even the elite or the poor
opened his arms or the door.
Sent to those lost in sin
to free their souls within.
By tiptoe
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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Deborah Russell Poem
I usually donot attempt free verse and I hope this is okay?
If you fear what others happen to believe?
Then you know your heart’s not of stone.
For God created each one of us to care.
No matter if we share or refuse not to relate.
It’s up to us how we react or try to achieve.
One can reach one that others can’t reach.
It doesn’t matter if you are their parents.
Why, it could be simple just a nice gesture.
Perhaps it might make them feel special.
Have you a gift to be used as an outreach?
This is something that we can do for God!
So many refuse this they say I am unworthy?
His desire for us is to give our own testimony.
An avenue that’s open in your life to give.
Do you have a story of where God took over?
If this is the avenue He wants you to work in?
Then the Holy Spirit will give you words to say.
God will not force but your life will be uneasy.
Your life will have meaning it’s your choice.
Many a person refutes the call and says not me.
By tiptoe
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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Deborah Russell Poem
This is about a Christian woman living at a rest home that has no other place to abide without anyone caring and depression. I used to work as a CNA(Certified Nurse Assistant).
The Final Hour
Oh, I want to go home
cannot wait to roam,
not here but far above,
to abide in God’s love,
where tears never flow
like they do here below.
I wake up no shoes
when without a clue,
locate under the bed
as I lift up the spread.
What time to go now
for the dining room, chow.
My eyes are growing dim,
help me to find Jim,
do not want a dispute
with you…, I’m in pursuit,
is he over there,
in his favorite wheel chair.
Do I have to take a pill?
What a splendid thrill!
Here she comes so late
find I detest the wait,
once gone need to eat,
no other person to greet.
Isn’t this exquisite?
come in and visit.
three beds in a row,
she sounds like a crow.
A toilet to share,
I’m hoping no one’s there.
Who gave me a phone call,
only, Sister Hall.
How is the preacher,
his wife, still a teacher?
My bible lies here,
in the heart it lives near.
Wipe tears off the sleeve,
now you go and leave.
Days I long for past,
desire to be free at last,
so I hear the songs
of praise for which I long.
Who knows the final hour
that’s in God’s power?
The curtain of life
opens to no more strife,
leave this earth of pain
forever without a cane.
By tiptoe
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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Deborah Russell Poem
Here's one just for the fun of it!
Beau
I saw him at a show,
a handsome stallion named Beau,
horse with a high-stepping prance,
every judge he would please,
winning horse-shows was a breeze…
but he secretly wanted to dance.
“Cause a man named Bill Willy
had the most beautiful filly,
whom Beau really wished to impress…
but his insides turned to jelly,
when he got cramps in his belly,
thanks to Bill, he was now in a mess.
The filly called, “How do you do?”
A cute whinny Beau took for his cue,
then he gladly neighed back with delight.
Yes, Beau then took a chance;
just one direct gaze in her glance…
for he had dreamt of her, day and night.
Her coat was shiny and fair,
there she had the most stylish flair,
to Beau, she was a beauty quite unique.
She nearly took his breath away,
as his heart started racing that day,
although his legs were shaky and weak.
This filly was ready to dance,
so Beau started a hot romance,
though it seemed touch and go for awhile.
Beau forgot all about his prance,
he finally learned how to dance
and he was glad he’d gone that extra mile!
By tiptoe
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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Deborah Russell Poem
What a Gift…!
Can you hear the splash
of little feet?
Who encounter the mud puddles
as they meet,
Gathering weather-beaten boards
for a store,
the office, or an automobile,
and a lot more.
Popsicle sticks provide families
that do talk,
Pebbles in line mark a colorful
sidewalk to walk.
While a cardboard box that is light
is a house,
filled to their personal delight,
with a toy mouse.
Muddy shoes and torn clothes
do not matter,
neither do their dirty noses in
play and chatter.
A gift of imagination is all
It will take
for a child to use mud and turn it
Into a yummy cake.
By tiptoe
Copyright © Deborah Russell | Year Posted 2016
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