Category Archives: Poetry

Simple Immigration

What if, in God’s economy, America’s existence is simply to illustrate further that there is no way to live peacefully on this earth apart from an adherence to Biblical Theology; and that because there will never be one hundred percent conformance to Biblical Theology on this earth, we are destined to be a world of war, poverty, and discontent?

What if we, who do comply to the best of our abilities to Biblical Theology, were to simply embrace this notion and each other and move about through this world sowing authentic love in the Spirit of Christ; while patiently waiting for his return? For Him to set all to right?

I know, according to Biblical Theology, that we have a responsibility to be good stewards of the gifts we have received and to be sharers. I know that America is a gift in the sense that we are enabled to worship here- free from persecution for our beliefs; and I do wish to cherish and protect this gift, and to share it with others, as this is loving.

Shouldn’t we be able to both protect and share in a manner that is loving? All of God’s stipulations for us are summed up in one commandment:  Love God.  And the second is like the first, in other words, if we are doing the first it will follow that we will be doing the second; we will love ourselves in the same manner that God loves us and we will love everyone else that way too! Those who love God follow His commandments.

And what is love? Love is sacrifice.  This is how we know what love is:  Jesus Christ laid down His life for us.

Copyright 2016. L. L. Shelton.

Meeting With A Saint

I was maybe ten

She was wrinkled and I thought old
but I had not considered God

Her eyes twinkled behind her silver-rimmed spectacles

Was she Mrs. Claus when she wasn’t doing her missionary duty

Her hand was warm and strong

I read her books borrowed from our church library

I instinctively loved her

I was so proud to meet her

To know that she was truly real

I tucked her into my own hiding place

And knew that she would be there
if ever I would need her

Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton


Is It A Gift?

Should I be grateful to be this awake?
Should I be thankful for the other’s sake?
Should I be happy to realize
The depth of despair
I see in one’s eyes?
Should I be glad
To notice the
And what about those with no alibi?

Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton

Born To Bear

Empathy is a form of genius
Though is easily seen,
In reflections of W. H. Auden,
It surely takes its toll.

Furrowed etched into his brow
Resembling ravines,
Lines formed as he was wondering,
All nature he extolls.

Now notice please Her Majesty,
Victoria the queen,
Though many keen abilities,
Love was her finest role.

As for Professor Doctor Saks,
Empathy he has been,
Patients seem as his own arm and then,
He tells us of their souls.

Copyright 2014.   L.L. Shelton.

Just Breathe

When my mother-in-law passed away, her two sons were by her side, along with my precious niece and me.  It was a long miserable night of morphine and labored breathing and careful observation of a soul lingering in a worn out mind and body until…  until what? I don’t know.  Nor do you.  What happens beyond the science, that calls a person at just that precise moment to vacate the earthly shell inhabited for so many years? To finally spiritually abandon the worn out body, brain, and mind so inextricably intertwined?

It was an extraordinary and tremendously difficult moment to witness- that instant when another human being drew her final breath.  Final.  The end.  There was to be no other.   An immediate stunning silence followed.

I’m not sure how it happened but my niece and I suddenly found ourselves alone in the room.  I climbed onto the bed beside my mother-in-law and held her.  I stroked her furrowed brow, something I would never have felt comfortable doing in her real life.  She was most independent and  certainly not demonstrative with her affection.  My niece watched this thoughtfully and kept her notions of it to herself.

My petite spirited niece who is herself healthily independent, is on the quiet side until she warms up to people and generally optimistic.  As we made our way to the parking lot together, she looked to me and volunteered that she could now check this off her bucket list.  This was on your bucket list, I inquired to be sure I had heard correctly.  Yes, she said, to watch someone die was on her list.  I mused a moment.  Well, she is entering the military,  and she could one day find herself on a battlefield… and in all of two seconds her reasoning was decided.

On the drive home, it occurred to me that I didn’t even have a bucket list.  This young woman less than half my age not only had a bucket list but had successfully managed to check something off of it! Though this seemed of some mild importance,  on that memorable day I had no further time to devote to the subject.

Today, it has been nearly two years since and recently it occurred to me that I still hadn’t assembled that bucket list.  It is now or never.

Bucket List:

Item one-  Stand in Poetry, Texas on some lovely day, at what was originally known as Turner’s Point and breathe deeply, purposefully, and appreciatively.

Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.

About Our Progress

Don’t wanta be cloned
Call God on the phone
Don’t wanta choose gender
Little hearts needn’t render
Such things

Don’t wanta live forever
Immortally together
Here among the ashes
In the dark where the trash is
Piled up

Some things shouldn’t be
Shouldn’t be…

Copyright 2017.   L.L. Shelton.

We Were Children

In the shelter of the storm grew I,
Angry curses framed each lullaby,
Raucous rumblings rolling through the sky,
Of Mama’s brightly glistening gray-blue eyes.

Wrapped in roaring rage for blanket soft,
Mother’s heart and hands held me aloft,
The swollen river rushing round her pain,
There on its banks her own childhood lay slain.

Copyright 2010. L.L. Shelton.