Purple Poetry Path
Volume 4
Some worked all day,
Others only half a day,
A few just for an hour.
God sees the truth,
The things we cannot,
The purpose of the parable.
Early morning workers,
Youthful and strong,
Easily able to work a full day.
Nine to five workers,
Intelligent and resourceful,
Wearing a suit and tie to work.
Part-time workers,
Home care providers,
Juggling work and family.
Afternoon workers,
Adolescents and young teens,
Going to work after school.
Five o'clock workers,
Weak and weary,
Walking with a cane.
God gives everyone the same reward,
One silver coin,
His unconditional love.
June 3, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Sitting in a stream with an insatiable thirst,
Walking through waterfalls with parched lips,
Drinking sand.
Being at a bountiful banquet table with a gluttonous hunger,
Gorging on heaping platters of unsatisfying food,
Eating dust.
Alone in a room full of people,
A constant dull ache morphine can’t stop,
A hole in the heart no doctor can repair.
Feeling abandoned, as no words come,
Heart polarized with pain watches helplessly,
Shades drawn over the eyes, but sleep does not come.
Standing still as the mind hurls down endless tracks,
Through long dark mazes of tunnels,
Whirling and twirling around and around.
A small crack appears in the stone wall,
A sliver of light and a voice slips through,
Offering His life for a chance to help.
A loud voice calls out, Take away the stone,1
Stumbling out into the light bound by fear,
Into the arms of waiting family and friends.
Finding a faith that conquers fear,
Filling the empty darkness with light,
He nurturers us with His Body and Blood.
1John 11:39
date
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Orphaned when birth parents divorced,
Along again when adopted parents died,
Lost in a world of people too busy to care.
Overwhelmed with feelings of abandonment,
Struggling to accept a path different from one’s peers,
Tears dried by the wings of the wind.
Walking a solitary path without a compass,
Accompanied by an occasional traveler,
But no one with the strength to go the distance.
Wandering aimlessly through the dry desert,
Glimmers of a group in the distance,
Lead by a white robed shepherd.
Wandering the outskirts,
Following the other outcasts,
Believing their boastful lies.
Confident the shepherd and his group,
Would never allow a dirty one,
To mingle with the pure white.
Gaining the courage to get closer,
Shocked and surprised at the sight,
Of the many shades of white, even some gray.
Tired of wandering alone and afraid,
Seeking the solace of emotional support,
Wanting so desperately to be loved.
Accidently stumbling into the path of the shepherd,
Looking up into his kind and loving smile,
He gently removed the brambles and thorns.
All reservations and fears melted away,
Being warmly welcomed by all,
The lost sheep has returned.
May 21, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Each life has its challenges,
However, no lessons are assigned
Without the proper tools.
The Master knows His pupils,
Understands their strengths,
Has patience with their weaknesses.
Lacking confidence we fear,
The tests that come our way,
We run ad hide from the Master.
Standing by the blackboard,
Waiting with chalk in hand,
Conveying confidence and love.
After many revisions and re-writes,
With shaking hands we pass in our papers,
Positive we are going to fail.
Smiling the Master accepts our work,
Looking past the mistakes and misspellings,
Comprehending our thoughts and ideas.
With gently guidance, He re-directs,
Carefully correcting our mistakes,
Helping us to guide us in our studies.
Each student that gives it their all,
No matter the type of work,
Receives an A from the Master.
May 21, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Making mountains of money,
Pursuing lofty careers,
Being powerful and influential.
Occasionally attending weekly Mass,
Giving a substantial donation,
Running out after the service.
Saying prayers to ask for something,
Asking for help only during a crisis,
Turning to Him in despair.
Being down-sized by life,
Seeing the truth for the first time,
Making adjustments to the plan.
Earning enough to feed the family,
Working as a servant to others,
Being humble and giving.
Attending Mass every morning,
Putting meal money in the collection,
Stopping to help others after Mass.
Saying prayers when life is good,
Being thankful for gifts received,
Turning to Him in appreciation.
Learning through prayer and adoration,
Turning the focus from self to God,
Lifting our minds, hearts and souls to Him.
May 14, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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The feeling of love softly gliding over the unborn soul, a
gentle good-bye for the long journey ahead, we travel over the dry,
dusty roads, and through the long, lonely nights.
Traveling to a new place, we are unable to speak
the language, as we find ourselves surrounded
by those unable to love, and we learn lessons
through our many losses,
we remember God's kiss.
Bonded by a strong faith, we wade through depression
and pain, floundering along with many lost souls, we
forge endless rivers of tears, determined not to drown,
we remember the kiss.
Abandoned by those too weak for the arduous terrain,
we endure a self-imposed alienation, created from
years of rejection,
we remember the kiss.
Memories of a promise made long ago, we are no
longer blinded by the bright lights of glory and fame, we
no longer selfishly neglect those less fortunate, we
regain the patience to wait for the right time,
when the kiss returns.
date
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Grey rain clouds loom overhead, early morning mist
having with sadness permeates the air, a long dreary road
stretch out ahead and a sharp silence pierces the air.
A stranger appears to Cleopas and his companion, as
they walk away from Jerusalem, discussing what they
experienced, in the events of the past few days.
Stopping at an inn for the night, their new friend
broke the bread, and their eyes were opened, they
understood, and their friend disappeared.
Outside as the sky began to clear, they see
themselves for who they really are, no longer
mere travelers, but disciples with a new and glorious
message to share with the world.
April 23, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Dearest Lord,
please remove the stone that blocks us,
in the tomb of our sins, sins that
keep us from you.
Help us to see we need to ask for Your help,
we feel isolated from You and we cannot
move the stone, our sins are too heavy
and they prohibit us from coming to You.
The tomb is dark, our hands and feet are bound
with the cloth of fear and unworthiness, alone
and afraid we cry out to You.
We are filled with frustration and sorrow, and
our family and friends are praying for us, but
we are hoping You will help us.
With prayer and reconciliation, You resurrect
us from our death of sin, and we step
into the light to greet our family and friends.
You removed the bonds of fear that
bound our hands and our feet, and our faith
has been restored, as we give our lives to You.
April 9, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Just as a surgeon removes the cancerous cells
that plague our bodies, Jesus removes the sins
that injure our souls.
With the scalpel of His love, He cuts through
the skin of our fears, to reveal the sickness
of our sins.
Surrounded by angels in white, handing Him
the instruments He needs, He gently
removes the cancerous cells.
To stop the flow of life from our bodies, He
cauterizes our wounds, sewing up the exposed areas
with the thread of prayers from our loved ones.
There are no scars or wounds to be healed, Jesus
withstood the nails in His hands and His feat, so
we would be healed from all our sins.
April 9, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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As we sit in the cozy, warm house,
broken hearted and lonely,
we look out at the jewel covered lake,
sparkling like angel wings,
and we feel lost and afraid,
so, we make a promise,
a year devoted to His service.
And when we say “Yes” to God's will,
joyous acclaims float down on gossamer webs,
as angelic arms soothe and protect us,
and our heart is overwhelmed with love,
as we look forward to the promise,
of new beginnings.
Slowly, the gigantic grief and abandonment craters,
of a heart riddled with pain is repaired,
and our heart begins to grow stronger,
and even though we still yearn for the life we left behind,
we remember our solemn promise.
Forced to live a solitary life,
we walk the tightrope of trust,
as we hope we are traveling the right direction,
even though our heart still longs for its earthly soulmate,
we remember our promise.
As the heart continues to heal,
our confidence returns,
but one day our jack-in-the-box ego reveals,
that pieces of our heart are still shattered,
we feel desperate for a love we never attained,
and as a hollow hunger overwhelms us,
and romantic dreams permeate our nights.
we forget our promise.
When those we loved break our hearts,
our food turns tasteless,
and our journey becomes apathetic,
our vehicle get stuck on auto pilot,
and in our desperation,
we turn back to God.
He calls us to come back to Him,
to His gratifying love,
a love that feeds all our hungers,
a love that is unconditional,
and we remember our promise.
March 21, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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God gave life to His only Son, whom
He called Beloved, and He gave life to each one of us and
He calls us His children.
Just as Jesus, we have a purpose, to share
The Word of God with all those we meet, to follow in
His footsteps, by the choices we make each and every day.
Jesus loves us all so much that
He willingly died on the cross, and although our own
Crosses are infinitely smaller than
His, those that take their crosses up willingly and follow
Him, are eternally blessed.
To those who glorify God and share
His good works, with all those
They meet, those who believe in
Him without seeing, all these,
God calls Beloved.
March 19, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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A daughter of God, from parents
unable to show affection, born knowing
abundant love, from her heavenly Father,
is showered with a rain of courage, to warm
her from the cold sleet and the hail of fear.
Blessed with the light of faith, shimmering for
all to see, brightening the dark rooms, chasing
away the dreary shadows of the soul.
Replacing the ache of loneliness with ethereal
playmates, angelic partners in tag and hide and seek,
feeling God's presence during a cornucopia of confusion
and change, knowing He is driving parental involvement,
and steering the wheels of wisdom, and
directing her destination.
With each tumble and fall, she is cradled and caressed with
loving hands, and as she learns the lessons taught through books
and experience, she also knows the choices she makes, may determine
the bottomless pits she falls into, and
just as Jesus spoke to the woman at the well,1
she knows in her heart, that
we are all daughters of the Lord,
and He loves us unconditionally.
1John 4:4-26
March 19, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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There are those who sit in the same pew,
Week after week,
Attending from a sense of duty,
Praying loudly for all to hear.
While others, with heads bowed low,
Pray quietly and devoutly,
Not looking up,
Begging for forgiveness.
We grumble and complain,
As the children of Israel did to Moses,
Voicing their fear of a new territory,
Unwilling to give up their selfish ways,
They lose their faith in God and His teachings,
Expecting to be teleported to the Promised Land.
But for those who commit their lives to God,
Joining a choir or becoming a Eucharistic minister,
Helping others by being a Big Brother or Sister,
Volunteering their time at a soup kitchen,
Or washing the feet of all those before them.
Find themselves leaving behind their selfish routines.
Each week at Mass, we have a choice,
The same choice we have every single day,
We can do things just so others can see us,
Or we can come to His house to visit with Him,
And for those who see others with an open heart,
Who are willing to take up their crosses and follow Him,
Return to the world with an amazing peace and joy.
March 19, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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A two color palette, wispy
black clouds in a
white sky, straight
white rings around the
black moon,
black and
white checkerboard circles
surrounding the sun.
Christ in a long flowing
black robe, demons dressed
all in white, dark thoughts
slammed on
ivory parchment,
black bruises on
porcelain skin.
Speaking in the strained
silence, living the
total truth, volcanic parents
confused and afraid,
filled with
white ash and
black smoke.
Alone in our
white room, a child sits by the
black window, watching the
black and
white world
pass by,
as the church choir
celebrates a
baptism, a funeral
procession
marches down the street.
Faith the size of a
white mustard
seed, planted deep within
a little girl, sprouts
forth with
glorious colors, as a
rainbow robe
protects her.
Illuminating the way for those
blinded by pain, the
faith shared with those
around us, helps to remove the
black and
white lenses, replacing them with
ethereal colors.
March 12, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Gathering together as a community,
Following the teachings of Jesus,
They began to construct churches,
Soul by soul, between layers of mortar,
With Jesus, the Lord being the corner stone.
Massive fortresses, deliverers of the people,
Protection from the invading forces of evil,
Shelter for those seeking God's saving grace,
Completely confident in His eternal promise,
To shepherd His people and keep them safe.
Buildings created to house God's spirit,
Designed with beautiful stained glass eyes,
Cloaked with a strong gray protective skin,
Adorned inside with blood red banners and
Altar white robes with bold, bright vestments.
From Romanesque to Baroque to Modern,
Over the years, different styles have come and gone,
But the spirit within these consecrated buildings,
Remains the same as it did in the very first one,
All those many years ago.
No matter the size, shape, or style of church,
The Body and Blood of our Lord and Savior,
Can be glorified, honored and praised,
For wherever two or three are gathered
together in My name,
There am I in the midst of them.1
1Matthew 18:20
March 4, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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A little prayer wrapped in a snow white cocoon sleeps through
the long winter months, patiently waiting for just the
right time. God's loving warm spring sun touches
the little prayer, within its tightly wrapped
bed of white and it begins to move, anxious
and excited it twists and turns.
A tiny slit appears
then a small hole,
short phrases
with little words fall out,
followed by longer more poetic phrases.
God hears the whispers falling to the ground.
He reaches down and scoops up all the words,
Holding them close, He gently pieces them together.
In His hands, beautiful yellow and black wings form,
With a soft nudge, the little prayer smiles and takes flight.
Floating about, the little prayer lands on the shoulder of its author.
A wish reverently prayed months prior, after a long trek, it has
reached its final destination. God turns the small prayer into reality.
March 1, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Nor does anyone pour new wine into old wineskins.
If he does, the wine will burst the skins,
and then the wine and the skins are both lost.
Rather, new wine is poured into fresh wineskins.1
Letting go of old traditions for something new,
Releasing negative vinyl gramophonic messages,
Upgrading to compact disc surround sound.
Shaking the dust off old sandals,
Striking out on a brand new path,
New hiking shoes for the adventure.
Reading scripture with new eyes,
Removing the fog from our lenses,
Seeing something that needs new wineskins.
Allowing new visions to manifest,
Falling down like crystal snowflakes,
That changes the hearts of the congregation.
Seeing once empty pews turn to overflowing,
Creating a community choir with new members,
Many different grapes all blending harmoniously.
Lost in the dry desert of human understanding,
Seeking the fertile knowledge of God's plan,
Praying for God's help with the new clusters.
1Mark 2:22
February 24, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Who do you say that I am?1
To the doe, white tail flashing,
Leaping through the underbrush,
He is the stag leading the hunters,
Away from her down another path.
To the homeless man, shabby clothes,
Cold and lonely, sleeping on a bench,
He is the newspapers and cardboard,
That keeps out the chilly night air.
To the baby red rose, freshly cut,
In a vase sitting on the window sill,
The is the bright, warm sun,
Encouraging the flower to open.
To the little boy huddled in a corner,
Ridiculed by peers, his eyes red and puffy,
He is the teacher, who comes to him,
Dries his tears and gives him a hug.
To the colored candle sitting alone,
On a barren table in a dark room,
He is the spark which brings light,
As it releases its fragrance into the air.
To the solitary black sheep of the group,
Unaware of the lurking, lone gray wolf,
He is the vigilant, compassionate shepherd,
Loving and protecting all those in His flock.
To the church congregation, in chaos,
Struggling with a new cluster system,
He is the vision given to the pastor,
To bring them together as one family.
1Mark 8:29
February 24, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Red velvet cards and glittering jewelry,
Heart sharped chocolates and red roses,
Lovers walking hand-in-hand,
Beside a brilliant sunset on the beach.
Hearts bent and broken,
Dry, dust-filled tear ducts,
Silent, soundless sobs,
Long, lonely loveless nights.
Sun slowing rising from the sea,
Morning flowers opening,
Dew melting from the grass,
Sun sparkling on the snow.
Peeking from beneath the feathery ferns,
The shimmery soft lady slipper,
Waiting for the warm, wispy winds,
To open the awnings of the world.
Jesus comes to the lonely,
As the shepherd, He call to them,
From their dark, damp caves,
They follow the sound of His voice.
His love fills in the craters,
From the explosions of planetary collisions,
He solders the seeping seams,
Cauterizing the free-flowing arteries.
For the solitary weeping willow,
He brings a strong, sturdy oak,
To shelter it from the scorching summer sun,
And the harsh winter Nor'easters.
The Lord creates joyful memories,
Bestowing blessing and sweet dreams,
A day of love for the lovers and the lonely,
God shares His unconditional love with all.
February 14, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Blessed is the man that endureth temptation;
for which he is tried, he shall receive the
crown of life, which the Lord hath promised
to them that love Him.1
He heals the lepers,
All those physical ailments,
That plague the body,
But to heal the spirit,
To extract the demons,
That hunt the flesh,
Is a more challenging feat.
The demons once removed,
Can easily return to the body,
They know it's secrets,
The open doors of the soul,
And they deviously tempt us,
Sneaking past the guards,
They slither into the inner sanctum.
Jesus can cure the physical,
The sickness of the flesh,
He can banish the demons,
And as he locks the door behind them,
He wants us to understand,
He is the key to keep them,
From returning again and again.
Although, healing the physical body,
Was never the Lord's primary focus,
It was His dying on the cross,
The proof the body is finite,
And His rising from the dead,
Was to show that the spirit is eternal,
And His love for us is forever infinite.
1James 1:12
February 12, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Invited by a friend from Saint Joseph's Choir,
Nervous and unsure of what to expect,
With open arms, I was warmly welcomed,
By Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
We gathered together for monthly meetings,
Singing scripture in glorious hymns,
Speaking and sharing His wonderful words,
We proclaimed His love with poetry verse.
Putting aside selfish cares and concerns,
Conversing with models of compassion,
Striving to become a simple servant,
Helping to clothe those who are cold.
Learning compassion and thankfulness,
Gaining moral strength and courage,
Witnessing servants of God in action,
With sharing and giving unconditional love.
Offering the gifts He loving bestows,
Devoting time to help our neighbors,
Following in the spiritual footsteps,
Of Foundress Mother Mary of the Sacred Heart.
Making the promise to become an Affiliate,
A journey for both the heart and the soul,
Acceptance is a privilege and an honor,
A bountiful blessing from a loving God.
February 12,2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
Back to Poetry Links
Invited by a friend from Saint Joseph's Choir,
Nervous and unsure of what to expect,
With open arms, I was warmly welcomed,
By Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
We gathered together for monthly meetings,
Singing scripture in glorious hymns,
Speaking and sharing His wonderful words,
We proclaimed His love with poetry verse.
Putting aside selfish cares and concerns,
Conversing with models of compassion,
Striving to become a simple servant,
Helping to clothe those who are cold.
Learning compassion and thankfulness,
Gaining moral strength and courage,
Witnessing servants of God in action,
With sharing and giving unconditional love.
Offering the gifts He loving bestows,
Devoting time to help our neighbors,
Following in the spiritual footsteps,
Of Foundress Mother Mary of the Sacred Heart.
Making the promises to become an Affiliate,
A journey for both the heart and the soul,
Acceptance is a privilege and an honor,
A bountiful blessing from a loving God.
February 12,2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Who am I to hear words from God?
No famous prophet or great sage,
With the eloquent wisdom of years.
A simple girl from a small town,
With a sheltered and selfish upbringing,
Who used to be spiritual, not religious.
However, when life came crashing down,
Surrounded by earth shattering mistakes,
Despair and depression became the norm.
Abandonment became a recurring theme,
And with no place to look but up,
White, fluffy clouds filled the sky.
Feeling His holy presence,
And smiling for no reason,
For the first time, the sea was calm.
Slowing beginning to write His words,
They flowed and filled my mind,
As they rushed out through my hand.
He brought new people into my life,
Those who loved to read His words,
They shared His truth with me.
Each day was listening for His guidance,
Passionately praying to know His will,
And yearning to follow in His footsteps.
Listening to His words changes lives,
To those who come to hear Him speak,
The sky is clear and the wind is calm.
February 12, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Hold thy peace and come out of Him.1
The dryness of the desert invades our spirituality,
The passion in our prayers has vaporized,
We toss and turn, unable to sleep,
Our waking time is consumed with confusion.
Our world has become tumultuous,
Unclear spirits incessantly stalk us,
They sit patiently in the shadows,
Waiting until we are vulnerable.
When everything around us is inexorable,
Gaggles of geese and crows are cawing,
Horns blaring and taxis go whizzing by us,
And we are inundated by deafening, city noises.
As we walk down a dark street, a light clicks on,
We hear a strong voice of authority,
“Come out of him.”
We feel a sudden rush of wind and it's oddly quiet.
The geese and the crows have dispersed,
The street is empty, all is calm,
God has come into our presence,
He has bestowed peace into our soul.
1Mark 1:25
February 12, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Thou feedest them with the bread of tears,
and givest them tears to drink in great measure.1
A bountiful banquet hosted by servants of God,
A nourishing meal of thoughtful, tearful courses,
Prepared by a loving and caring culinary teacher.
Being with an appetizer of parental abandonment,
Baby tears, longing to be held and cuddled,
A primer about the unconditional love of a Father.
Followed by a tossed green salad of cold, adopted parents,
Toddler tears from never sparing the verbal rod,
Emotional bruises healed with a special dressing.
Served with warm rolls of marriage and death of a parent,
Seasoned with a salty mixture of happy and sad tears,
The next course comes with an advanced and arduous group.
Next cold potato soup, the death of a beloved pet,
Mixed with adolescent tears from the loss of a first love,
And taste testing the connection between love and loss.
Main course of a mentally and physically abusive husband,
Bring on tsunami tears from feelings of total worthlessness,
While enduring the ultimate trials of courage and perseverance.
Dessert and coffee is still waiting in the kitchen,
As sweet tears pour thinking about an unknown future,
Waiting for God's promise to those He loves.
1Psalm 80:5
February 11, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Not as man sees does God see,
because man see the appearance,
but the Lord looks into the heart.1
Just as God saw into the heart of David,
So He sees into our shielded hearts as well,
He knows the secrets we keep locked inside,
Deep in reflection, we strive to hear His voice,
As he gently whispers our name in the night,
We turn to Him to discover His will for us.
Praying to Him, morning, noon and night,
We listen intently for His compassionate reply,
We beseech Him to open our apathetic hearts,
And as we walk our path with Him at our side,
We invite Him into every aspect of our lives,
As we strive to be intimately close to Him.
Every day we wake up and go to sleep,
Thinking about Him and His love for us,
We smile when we feel His presence near us,
And we feel an indescribable calming peace of mind,
We yearn to find Him in every person we meet,
Confident He will reveal the path we need to travel,
11 Samuel 16:7
January 16, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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In the beginning was the Word,
And the Word was with God,
And the Word was God.1
He speaks to us of His love,
With tender mercy and compassion,
He teaching all His children,
The many ways to follow Him.
He heals the sick of their sins,
So they may walk again,
And He encourages the weak of heart
To triumph over their fears.
He gathers us all together,
To keep us from being lonely,
And he accompanies us every day,
During both crisis and celebration,
He opens our eyes and our ears,
So we can see and hear his messages,
He provides bread to fed us,
Spiritual sustenance to sustain us.
Whenever we read the Bible,
Or hear the Word being read,
He has a way of answering prayers,
From the scriptures and parables.
1John 1:1
January 15, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Loud violent, volcanic words,
Spewing forth into fiery phrases,
Burn everything they touch.
Words hurled with hate,
Tears flesh to the bone,
Deeper than sticks and stones.
Words are more than
An assembly of letters,
Randomly placed together.
Letters put together,
Create a powerful force,
That can be good or evil.
We must carefully choose,
The words we speak,
As God hears each one.
Words wrapped with warmth,
Mend more scars and wounds,
Than iodine and band aids.
A gentle stream of peaceful phrases,
Flowing over and around the rocks,
Will sooth the rough, jagged edges.
Swallowing pride-filled statements,
Or slamming the door on jealous jabs,
Creates compassionate communication.
God wants us to love our neighbor,
This includes the words we share,
With all our friends and foes alike.
January 15, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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I will sing of the mercies of the Lord forever.1
We sing to the Lord,
Words of praise and glory,
Angelic melodies light as air.
Circular continuous chants,
Reverberating against stained glass,
Dancing on polished wooden pews.
Rising up to the ceiling,
Floating on spiritual thermals,
Drifting back down again.
A new song still in the mind,
Jumbled words with no meaning,
Notes skipping across a page.
God pulls out a word from the pile,
With a sparkling note attached,
He places in on a cloud.
He repeats the process,
Pulling words at random,
With notes tagging along.
Then they all come together,
A song with a soulful beat,
Catchy tune with rhyming words.
The lyricist rearranges the words,
The composer changes some notes,
And a heavenly hymn of praise is born.
1Psalm 89:1
January 13, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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I waited patiently for the Lord;
and He inclined unto me and heard my cry.1
Dearest Lord and God,
Hear our cries for mercy,
For we are lost and alone.
We beg You for Your light,
To enlighten our murky way,
And guide us along our path.
Help us avoid the many traps,
Put there by the evil ones,
Who want to see us fall.
Hear the songs of praise we sing,
As we travel with hopeful hearts,
Following in Your sandy footprints.
Accept our simple works,
And quiet acts from caring hearts,
Which we do in Your holy name.
Your unconditional love and kindness
Is something to which we all aspire,
Help us to become more like You.
We look to You, my Lord and God,
Your faith in us is infinite,
Thou art my help and my deliverer.2
1Psalm 40:1
2Psalm 40:17
January 12, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Dearest Lord and Savior,
Send us Thy heavenly light,
Like Eli, our eyes are dim,
We stumble along our path,
Unsure of which way to go.
The way before us has many roads,
Paved with mud, concrete and dirt,
It gives us the faith to rely on You,
So we are not blinded by the shine,
From the wealth of the world.
Please guide our feet to do Your will,
Give us courage when we meet defeat,
Comfort us when we feel lost and lonely,
Heal us from life's painful rejections,
That slashes our heart to shreds.
Lift our spirits so that we may,
Soar with the earth bound eagles,
Fill our hearts with Your glorious grace,
Give us the wondrous peace and joy,
That comes only from Your love.
In God we boast all the day long,
And praise Thy name forever.1
And bow our heads in heartfelt prayer,
Thou art my King, O God.2
1Psalm 44:8
2Psalm 44:4
January 12, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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He calls us in our sleep,
Running to Eli, “Here I am.”
But it is not Eli calling to us,
It is the Lord.
We need to listen closely,
To the strangers we meet,
And from those we see every day,
Are the gems that come from Him.
With wisdom to teach us,
Directions to guide us,
Encouragement to help us,
And warnings to keep us safe.
The more we are aware,
Of those all around us,
We realize how very close,
He is to us each and every day.
His caring, loving presence,
Is just a breath away,
A word, a gesture, a thought,
Brings Him into our hearts.
January 11, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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We hunger to hear Your call,
Starving for Your presence,
We wait for the voice at night,
That calls us close to You.
The prayer of Hannah,
Mary’s Magnificat,
The hymns we sing at Mass,
Gospel songs of praise.
The prayers we breathe,
In the depths of our heart,
The prayers we recite,
Those from our memory,
Or those from the Holy Spirit.
Oh heavenly Father,
Creator of the world,
Please open our hearts,
That we may hear Your call.
We know that You are with us,
Every moment of the day,
Please help us hear Your voice,
In all those we meet today.
January 11, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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The dreary dark days have gone,
For the sun has come to save us,
He was born on Christmas Day,
So that we may follow His light.
The truth has been revealed to us,
The magi coming from the East,
Bearing gifts to honor a tiny baby,
Who will one day forgive all our sins.
The many gifts they brought with them,
Chests of gold, frankincense and myrrh,
Are not the gifts we get from Him,
His gifts are infinitely more precious.
Gifts wrapped in brilliant paper,
Tied up with golden ribbons,
Waiting in the tabernacle of our hearts,
For us to accept them into our lives.
He asks for nothing in return,
His gifts come with no strings,
He gives freely and willingly,
To show the depth of His love.
The greatest gift that we can give,
To Him who gives us so much,
Is to accept His presence to us,
And to share it with the world.
January 8, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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The blessed Christmas season is over,
All the trees and decorations are gone,
Our lives return to their normal routine,
Nothing seems to have changed us.
However, a void appears in our hearts,
We miss the cheer and good will to all,
The ordinary is just not enough anymore,
Something is missing from our lives.
We search each day for something more,
We strive for more money and possessions,
But our hearts continue to ache and moan,
For something we cannot seem to find.
That thing that we seek so feverishly,
Is something already within us,
All we need to do is open our hearts,
And gaze upon the radiant face before us.
The Lord is waiting within our hearts,
Anxious to give us that which we seek,
The peace and joy that comes from Him,
Will sooth our sick and weary souls.
The love of Jesus is what we are missing,
Once we open ourselves to hear His call,
His love for us will replenish the void,
And our hearts will overflow with gladness.
His unconditional love is all we need,
If we can acknowledge and let Him in,
Sharing His love with all the world,
Will give us the peace and joy we seek.
January 8, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Dearest Lord and God, we thank You,
For all the blessings You have bestowed,
For the health and happiness of all,
As well as for the pain and sorrow.
You have helped us to grow,
To learn to love You more,
To understand Your gifts,
And appreciate all You do.
Your patience with our tiny steps,
Gives us the courage to go on,
To give of ourselves more this year,
So we can make You proud.
This bright, shining new year,
Holds such promise for all,
A chance to show our gratitude,
For all you do for each day.
May our courage never fail us,
Our convictions be strong and true,
Your light shines bright to guide us,
On the path that brings us to you.
January 1, 2006
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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There is darkness in the world,
A world filled with war and hate,
Where brothers and sisters are torn,
All struggling to make their way.
A world with people of all races,
All different, yet somehow the same,
Many languages, customs and faiths,
All looking for someone to love.
A light flickers in the distance,
A bright star high in the heavens,
Shining to dispel the darkness,
A beacon for the lost and lonely.
The miraculous birth of a tiny baby,
The hope for all people in darkness,
The light to bring all people together,
To a world filled with peace and love,
Jesus came so we all could see,
How a baby could unite the world,
Bringing His light to all the people,
He dispelled the darkness with His love.
December 11, 2005
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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My Dearest Lord and God,
Maker of all we hold dear,
Here in my Christmas stocking,
Are the things I want this year.
Teach me to graciously receive;
Your multitude of grace and blessings,
As Mary and Joseph once received,
Gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Please guide my selfish wishes,
New clothes, cars, boats and homes,
Past the material things of this world,
To the true blessings You have for me.
Give me health and happiness,
In spirit, mind and body,
Help me to live in harmony,
With all my family and friends.
Give me the incisive discernment,
To comprehend Your will for me,
Grant me the gift of grace,
To follow it willingly.
Give me the spiritual knowledge,
To distinguish when “No” is a blessing,
Grant me the calming patience,
To wait for Your wondrous “Yes.”
Give me a powerful voice,
To sing Your glorious praises,
Grant me the courage to use it,
To spread Your sacred words.
Give me the joy of this season,
And make it last all year,
So all may see the goodness,
You have for those who ask.
December 18, 2005
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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Dearest Lord and God,
Thank You for all Your bountiful gifts,
For the good and drink You give us,
For the clothes that keep us warm,
For a safe place to rest our weary heads,
Thank You for the love You give us,
May we learn to share it with others,
To give unselfishly and generously,
To help all those in need.
Thank you for our priests and deacons,
And sisters and all the religious,
May they share their wisdom with us,
Thank you for our family and friends,
All the ones we love, both near and far.
Please give us the strength to follow Your will,
Help our blind, egotistical eyes to see,
Help our deaf, uncaring ears to hear,
Help us to make heartfelt, loving choices,
For all those we see, hear and meet.
May we truly appreciate the gift,
Of your precision Body and Blood,
That you so unselfishly gave,
So that we might live.
Thank You dear Lord for all Your gifts,
May we always be truly grateful.
November 20, 2005
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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The small spotted fawn lies in the grass where her mother left her,
Danger lurks all around her petite from hidden in the tall greenery,
Both two legged and four legged predators sniff and skull around her.
Peeking up over the grass, she looks for her mother,
She spots her off in the distance with her aunts,
Giving her the “not yet” sign, she lays back down.
Hearing the voices of her cousins romping and playing,
Part of her wants to run out to play games with them,
But part of her is glad she has to stay hidden and safe.
Hearing a shot, she cowers and shivers in her warm bed,
Finally she gets the courage to peek her head out,
She sees nothing, everyone is gone, she is all alone.
Watching the tiny ants, running in pairs along the ground,
Birds fly in twos over her head in the clear blue sky,
Dragonflies zip and dart about in groups of twos.
Why am I the only one who is alone?
Where has my mother gone?
How long do I have to wait here?
She feels God's presence gently caressing her thoughts,
Traveling on the zephyr breeze, she hears her name,
Looking up, she hears a voice, “Not yet, my child.”
May 28, 2005
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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A velvet blanket of freshly fallen snow,
White chalk covering a clean, black slate,
A brand new year, so clean and bright.
This is the year our family and friends,
Will come together to help the church,
Reclaim its rightful place in the world.
A church that helps the lost and lonely,
The weary and those who are confused,
All united as one, we turn to God.
Dearest Lord from heaven above,
Please guide our frosty, burning feet,
The follow Your snowy, sandy footprints.
Clear our minds of all the bewilders us,
Help our frozen, flaming hearts,
Feel the clarity of Your love.
Light the fire of our cold passions,
United, we will fuel a heartless world,
Into an ardent, healthy congregation.
Give us the strength and courage,
To abandon our ice, selfish ways,
And turn toward Your fervent love.
Help us to willingly give of ourselves,
In this frigid world of ‘self’ focus,
We desperately need Your fiery love.
The sun will shine this bright new year,
Showing us a path that is clean and bright,
And the love of God who is good and true.
December 30, 2001
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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She holds her breath,
Silent as a stone,
Blending into the underbrush,
Hoping they will not notice her,
A sparrow among raptors.
A black shadow covers the sun,
Frantic, forlorn, fear,
Fight or Flight,
Terror veils the truth.
A loon among cormorants.
Bright beams from above,
Channels courage to her soul,
Calming her beating breast,
Easing her racing blood,
A merlin among falcons.
Light illuminates the scene,
Banishing the fear,
Life is seen for what it is,
The scavengers are gone,
Ebony and purple remain,
A crow and ravens.
May 15, 1997
© 2007, Jacqueline Newport, Purple Poetry Path
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