Two Poems

I am a Ragamuffin

Life recklessly abandoned

For the magnetic man

And His burning eyes of Love.

Who could stand in His Presence?

Who could behold His Majesty?

But alas, He stoops

Into the muck and mire of my sin

And wipes me clean

Gazes at me with those burning eyes

And says,

“Behold, Daughter,

I call you Mine.”





How could anyone turn from Him?

How could anyone run from His eyes?

It’s His eyes


Aching with love for me.


Whose sins are uncountable

Piled higher than eyes can see.

Whose attempts at goodness are merely bloodied rags.

I am too sinful to hide my shame

And yet He calls me daughter.

Who am I that He would call me daughter?

That He would even glance my way?

But His ways are far above mine.

For He crouches down

And gazes into the deepest parts of who I am

And whispers my identity



My Beloved.


Those eyes of Love…

I can never get enough.




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