Showing posts from 2019

Say what you want to say

My heart aches

My heart aches from the dream I can not see Her eyes had meby the sea So real but it's out of my touch And her hands when we sat on the couch I felt compelled to act But her rejection was a fact. Impossible to reconcile my dreams to reality I wish I could be part of her normality Break my confidentiality as we walk Is it wrong for me to write these lines What is a man to do when his heart pines?

Prayer for my soul

Dear Lord, please forgive me for all of my sins. I know that in Christ Jesus I have been forgiven and counted righteous. Yet I wish and will for more holiness in my life, that I would be a sweet aroma of kindness and humility to all around me. O help me in the midnight hours, and in the high noon that my heart remains pure and my attitude towards all is of love. teach me again your ways and cause me to obey them. O my everlasting saviour, How great thou art!


Fare ye well

My Inward Sunshine

I am to have sunshine in my soul - but that sunshine can only shine if Christ is shining in my soul, for Christ is that very sunshine. I must feel in myself that all my sins are forgiving and that I am in the right place with God. I know in my head that I an justified, and counted righteous in Christ forever, that no matter my state, I am always in Christ because I am his. But it is one thing to know and another to feel. That is why I preach to my soul and remind myself of the truth of the scripture, and in doing this, my soul is lifted and no longer downcast.


Miscellanies 111

What attended the sweetness of my miserable circumstances was her beauty, the finest brightest golden flow of light the universe ever saw. She was not mine but in my heart she was. Although a fantasy and a dream yet very real, as real as my poverty.


She was an artless candour

She was an artless candour from an aristocratic lineage. Her arrogant imposition was an ascetic devotion for the many that devoted themselves to her elegance. She was astute, a genius beyond her time, who always had about her a balanced capacity about the vagueness that men held on life.

Her azure sky always fragranced with an impressive appeal, drawing in the simple and the ambiguous and smooth; a commonplace modesty maligned with a bad omen. She was in one sense a beatific vision, a long beauty befitting the beckoning horizon.

The writings of Sunny Caane