Because Of Christ, Our Hearts Reflect His Love by Debbie Harris

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If I should speak with tongues of men and skies,
Yet lack the heart where love’s sweet river flows,
My words are clanging gongs, a hollow prize,
A fleeting noise where no true meaning grows.
Love suffers long, is kind, and envies not,
It boasts no pride, nor seeks its selfish gain,
In anger’s heat, it keeps no bitter slot,
But bears all things through joy and piercing pain.
Though prophecies may fade, and knowledge cease,
Love stands unbowed, eternal in its frame,
A child’s small faith may grow to find its peace,
Yet love alone perfects the soul’s acclaim.
So faith and hope abide, a sacred pair,
But love, the greatest, reigns beyond compare.

Because Of Jesus Christ, Our Love Like His by Debbie Harris

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1. Love is Patient

“The Silent Tide”
The ocean waits beneath the stormy sky,
Its waves restrained, though tempests howl and churn,
A quiet strength where restless winds pass by,
Enduring deep, no haste to rise or turn.
The cedar stands through winter’s bitter sting,
Its roots embrace the frost with steady care,
No murmur breaks the stillness seasons bring,
A sentinel of peace in frigid air.
The dawn delays, yet stars refuse to fade,
Their light a vow through night’s unyielding reign,
In shadows long, love’s patience is arrayed,
A gentle force no rushing can constrain.
For love, like tides, in silence holds its might,
A timeless grace that steadies every plight.


2. Love is Kind

“The Meadow’s Gift”
The brook bestows its silver to the stone,
A tender touch that softens jagged years,
The sunflower bows where weary seeds are sown,
Its golden face a balm for silent tears.
Through autumn’s chill, the vine extends its fruit,
A sweetness shared with hands that seek repose,
Each petal falls where sorrow takes its root,
A fragrant grace the heart alone can know.
The breeze lifts dust from paths too long untrod,
Its whisper weaves a warmth through barren ground,
In kindness blooms the mercy of our God,
A harvest free where love’s own wealth is found.
So love, in acts of care, forever flows,
A meadow rich where gentleness bestows.


3. Love Does Not Envy

“The Open Sky”
The eagle soars where mountains pierce the blue,
No grudge it bears for peaks it cannot claim,
The river runs, its course both swift and true,
Unvexed by shores that gleam with brighter fame.
The lark ascends, its song a selfless tune,
No shadow dims the joy of rival wings,
Beneath the sun, the oak and willow swoon,
Content with roots, no thirst for greener things.
The stars align, each gleam a humble spark,
No envy clouds their dance in boundless night,
Love’s gaze is wide, untroubled by the dark,
A boundless heart that covets not the light.
For love delights in all that freely grows,
A sky unmarred by want’s unyielding throes.


4. Love Does Not Boast

“The Quiet Bloom”
The violet hides beneath the forest’s shade,
Its fragrance soft, no fanfare to declare,
The stream slips past, its music gently played,
A murmur low, no pride to flaunt or bear.
The moon ascends, a glow that does not shout,
Its silver spills in stillness o’er the plain,
The wheat bends full, its gold a gift devout,
No voice to brag of bounty born of rain.
The hearth burns warm, its embers never boast,
A steady heat that asks no praise to shine,
Love’s truest mark is found in what’s not lost,
A silent thread through humble works divine.
For love, like blooms, in quiet beauty lies,
A strength unseen that needs no vaunting cries.


5. Love is Not Proud

“The Lowly Vale”
The valley rests where peaks in splendor rise,
Its green embrace a cradle soft and meek,
The sparrow flits, no crown to claim the skies,
Its wings a humble arc where winds bespeak.
The pebble sits where rushing waters glide,
No throne it seeks, yet shapes the river’s song,
The olive bows, its branches spread aside,
A yielded grace where arrogance is wrong.
The dusk descends, no pomp in fading hue,
Its colors blend with earth in tender peace,
Love’s heart is low, its gaze forever true,
A servant’s stance where haughty claims release.
For love, like vales, in modesty abides,
A gentle force that scorns all lofty tides.


6. Love Does Not Dishonor Others

“The Sacred Grove”
The aspen stands, its leaves a trembling choir,
No root upturns the soil where kin reside,
The flame burns bright, yet spares the wood its fire,
A glow that lifts, not chars, what lies beside.
The tide retreats, its foam a soft caress,
No mark it leaves to wound the shore’s repose,
The iris blooms, its gaze a sweet redress,
No shadow cast to dim another’s rose.
The wind moves free, through branches intertwined,
Its breath a bond, no force to break or rend,
Love honors all, its spirit unconfined,
A grove where every soul may safely bend.
For love upholds, a guardian pure and whole,
A sacred trust that dignifies the soul.


7. Love is Not Self-Seeking

“The Giving Rain”
The cloud releases drops to parchèd plains,
No hoard it keeps, though skies grow dim and gray,
The beech extends its shade o’er dusty lanes,
A shelter free, no debt to bid repay.
The spring pours forth where desert sands entomb,
Its waters dance, unclaimed by selfish need,
The poppy sways, its scarlet petals bloom,
A gift to eyes, not bound by pride or greed.
The dawn breaks wide, its gold for all to share,
No gate it bars, no favor to demand,
Love seeks the other’s joy, a wealth so rare,
A rain that falls from open, selfless hands.
For love, like storms, in giving finds its call,
A boundless flow that lifts and never falls.


8. Love is Not Easily Angered

“The Still Horizon”
The sea lies calm though gales above it roar,
Its depths unshaken by the tempest’s cry,
The willow bends where wild winds lash the shore,
Its branches bow, no wrath to amplify.
The ember glows, though gusts provoke its core,
A steady warmth that holds no bitter flame,
The dusk enfolds where daylight reigns no more,
A tranquil veil that bears no grudge to claim.
The stone endures, though rivers carve its face,
No fury stirs within its ancient breast,
Love’s pulse is even, tempered by Thy grace,
A quiet tide where rancor finds its rest.
For love, like seas, in stillness overcomes,
A heart at peace where anger seldom drums.


9. Love Keeps No Record of Wrongs

“The Cleansing Snow”
The snow descends, a shroud on scars below,
Each flake erases tracks of yester’s pain,
The brook runs clear, though mud once stained its flow,
Its currents sweep the past beyond disdain.
The birch renews, its bark a fresh attire,
No tally kept of storms that tore its skin,
The sky turns gold, unburdened by the pyre,
A dawn that holds no echo of the sin.
The frost recedes, no grudge in melting gleam,
Its chill forgives the earth it briefly bound,
Love’s ledger burns, a past it won’t redeem,
A mercy deep where freedom’s roots are found.
For love, like snow, in purity descends,
A grace that heals, where memory’s count ends.

The Love Of God by Debbie Harris

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Title: “The Love of God”
Summary: This Shakespearean sonnet portrays the love of God as a divine garden, rich with floral imagery and intoxicating fragrances. The first quatrain introduces crimson roses and jasmine, their scents rising like prayers to symbolize God’s tender love piercing through darkness. The second quatrain features lilies and violets, their sweet perfumes and vibrant hues reflecting grace and mercy that nurture broken souls. The third quatrain brings lavender’s calming scent and honeysuckle’s golden balm, illustrating God’s peace and anointing presence. The final couplet concludes with an image of an evergreen garland, affirming God’s eternal, glorious love woven through every bloom. The poem intertwines vivid flower imagery with spiritual depth, celebrating divine love as both beautiful and fragrant.

The rose unfurls its crimson heart at morn,
A fragrant hymn that drifts on velvet air,
Thy love, like jasmine, blooms where night is torn,
Its tender scent a whisper soft and fair.

The lily bends with dew, a chalice sweet,
Its perfume weaves through meadows green and wide,
In violet’s sigh, Thy grace and mercy meet,
A garden vast where broken souls abide.

Through fields of lavender, Thy peace extends,
Each purple stalk a note of sacred calm,
The honeysuckle’s breath with sunlight blends,
Its golden drops anoint like holy balm.

Thy love, O Lord, a garland ever green,
In every bloom, Thy glory reigns serene.

A Tapestry Of Praise by Debbie Harris

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Title: “A Tapestry of Praise”
Summary: This Shakespearean sonnet is a heartfelt expression of love and gratitude toward the Lord, woven with vivid, nature-inspired imagery. The first quatrain paints a scene of divine beauty, with golden heavens, emerald trees, cascading grace, and eternal seas of light. The second quatrain celebrates the Lord’s creation—starlit skies, silver streams, and the sparrow’s hymn—igniting the speaker’s spiritual longing. The third quatrain shifts to twilight valleys and a vibrant tapestry of colors, symbolizing the enduring presence of divine love. The concluding couplet affirmations the speaker’s devotion, portraying each breath as a song of renewal. The title, “A Tapestry of Praise,” reflects the poem’s rich, interwoven imagery and its overarching theme of worship.

The heavens bloom with gold at dawn’s first call,
A chorus whispers through the emerald trees,
Thy boundless grace cascades o’er mountain’s thrall,
And bathes the soul in light’s eternal seas.

For all Thy hands have wrought in starlit skies,
The rivers carve Thy name in silver streams,
The sparrow’s flight, a hymn that never dies,
Awakes my heart to chase celestial dreams.

Through shadowed vales where twilight paints the air,
Thy steadfast love ignites the fading flame,
A tapestry of colors rich and rare,
Unfurls beneath the echo of Thy name.

My Lord, I love Thee, radiant and true,
Each breath a song, my spirit born anew.

The Rot Of A Saviorless Land by Debbie Harris

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“The Rot of a Saviorless World” is a Shakespearean sonnet that explores the moral and spiritual decay of a world consumed by greed, where the “love of money,” identified as the root of all evil, corrupts humanity. The poem paints a bleak picture: hearts turn cold, souls bow to wealth, and nations crumble under avarice’s reign, leaving no mortal hope to break the cycle of ruin. The first twelve lines lament this “saviorless” state—light fades, virtue drowns, and earthly riches prove fleeting, leading to a world trapped in its own fatal clasp. Yet, the final couplet pivots to redemption, declaring that through the salvation of Jesus Christ, hope is restored. His saving grace revives the soul, and salvation reigns supreme, ensuring that hope thrives eternally despite the rot. The sonnet contrasts despair with triumphant faith, offering a victorious resolution rooted in Christ’s redemptive power.

The rot of a saviorless world takes hold,
Where love of coin, the root of every ill,
Corrupts the heart with greed’s unyielding cold,
And bends the soul to bow at wealth’s cruel will.
No mortal hand can break this gilded chain,
The earth lies choked beneath a miser’s reign,
Where once was light, now shadows twist in vain,
And virtue drowns in avarice’s dark stain.
Men trade their grace for riches they can’t keep,
A hollow hoard that crumbles in their grasp,
No earthly hope emerges from the deep,
The world decays within this fatal clasp.
Yet through Christ’s saving grace, our souls revive,
Salvation reigns, and hope shall ever thrive.

Rot Without The Rock by Debbie Harris

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“Rot Without the Rock” is a four-line free verse poem that laments a spiritual decay—described as a “rot”—stemming from the fading recognition of Jesus Christ, the Savior. It portrays a proud world that scorns His singular light and truth, choosing instead to exchange grace for empty shadows and noise, resulting in a shrouded existence.

A rot festers where His name fades,
Savior of all, scorned by the proud,
One light, one truth—still we trade
Grace for shadows, loud for the shroud.


The King’s Heart: Proverbs 21:1 by Debbie Harris

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Inspired by Proverbs 21:1, “The king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord; he directs it like a watercourse wherever he pleases,” the poem explores the idea that a king’s heart, like a stream, is directed by the Lord’s will, beyond human control. It portrays earthly power as transient and subordinate to divine authority, bending even the proudest rulers.

The heart of kings, a stream in heaven’s grip,
Flows where the Lord’s unyielding fingers guide,
No mortal will can break that sacred script,
Nor turn the tide where divine hands abide.
Through palaces of gold or halls of stone,
His silent voice bends pride to bend its knee,
A monarch’s might is never his alone,
But borrowed breath from vast eternity.
Yet in this dance of power so sublime,
The soul still wrestles, restless in its cage,
For though the Lord may steer through endless time,
Man’s fleeting heart writes lines on every page.
So kings may reign, their crowns a fleeting gleam,
Ruled as He sees fit, by wisdom’s sovereign scheme.

Cascade of Divine and Holy Verse by Debbie Harris

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When sacred whispers from glory cascade,
And Christ’s holy voice bids the heart be remade,
Like gemstones of grace from the soul’s depths that fall,
A sparkling hymn gleams, reflecting His call.

Steed Of The Savior’s Hand by Debbie Harris

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The sonnet celebrates the exquisite beauty of a horse crafted by Jesus, depicted through rich imagery. Its golden mane flows like dawn’s fire, its twilight-hued coat shimmers with heavenly dew, and sapphire veins pulse with life. The horse’s hooves blend thunder and gentleness, while its deep, starlit eyes reflect Christ’s eternal light. A divine creation, it embodies Jesus’ love and artistry, standing as a vision of grace and splendor.

From Jesus’ palms, a steed of splendor springs,
Its mane a cascade, molten gold aflame,
Each strand a thread of dawn the morning sings,
A silken fire no mortal hand could tame.
Its coat, a tapestry of twilight’s hue,
Gleams soft as velvet kissed by heaven’s dew,
Through veins like rivers, sapphire pulses brew,
A living hymn to grace forever new.
Hooves carve the air with strokes of thunder’s art,
Yet gentle as the mist on lilies lies,
Eyes deep as seas where stars and shadows part,
Reflect the light of Him who never dies.
So stands this horse, a vision wrought above,
A sculpted dream of Jesus’ boundless love.

Hooves Of Heaven by Debbie Harris

The sonnet explores the biblical imagery of horses as symbols of power, judgment, and divine will. It begins with the warhorses of Pharaoh, drowned in the Red Sea, representing earthly might overcome by God. It then shifts to Zechariah’s prophetic vision of colored horses—red, white, and dappled—as God’s silent agents patrolling the earth. The poem culminates in Revelation, where Christ rides a white horse, wielding righteous judgment and ultimate victory. Horses bridge the earthly and divine, from human pride to holy triumph, embodying God’s power across scripture.

Upon the plains of earth, the horses ride,
Their thunder echoes war’s unyielding cry,
In Pharaoh’s reign, with chariots of pride,
They chased the freed, yet drowned beneath the sky.
Through Zechariah’s dreams, their colors gleam,
Red, white, and dappled, heralds of the Lord,
They sweep the world in silence, swift supreme,
God’s watchful scouts, with judgment as their sword.
Yet Revelation mounts a steed most grand,
The White Horse bears the King of endless days,
His eyes aflame, a crown upon His hand,
To break the seals and set the earth ablaze.
So horses stride, from dust to holy flame,
A testament to power in His name.