Gary Bryson Poems

Where do poems come from?
My young daughter said.
Do they come from a poem tree
That grows in your head?
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A shepherd my Lord will be unto me,
A shepherd when I go astray.
His Word my guide, His Will to see,
I’m a sheep who has lost its way.
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I wish I were a bird on a wire,
As they gather at sunset, the world to inspire.
Huddled on every square inch they can find,
Like clumps of seaweed on a fowled anchor line.
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Pillowy powder
Falls from the sky,
I gaze in wonder,
As the white flakes fly.
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Then the Lord answered Job and said:

Who is this who distorts my words,
And does so with knowledge that’s vain,
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Aweigh now your anchors
Set trim to your sails,
For the voyage of your mind
Will spin wondrous tales.
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Find rest my soul in lyric’s chime,
Refreshed anew by making rhyme.
It’s course my thoughts direct the paths
That make my mind to sing.
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After the war,
and the forest burned down,
Nothing was left,
save the scorched barren ground.
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Surely there’s a righteous man,
Surely there’s a few.
Lord surely some would keep their Faith,
And trust alone in You.
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I Once Was A Warrior
A Sonnet to the Wounded Warriors

I once was a warrior, but now today,
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