This poem came after the reveling open heart surgery God preformed during the latest Together Ministry; Much was revealed to me as a husband, things I never considered, things I’ ve grown to take for granted in my marriage; so I wrote this poem as my official apology to my wife, I love you sweetheart, & I apologize…

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I Didn’t Know

Edward Taylor III

I didn’t know how my ravenous lust would put you in a rush to lend your heart & loan your trust.

I didn’t know that the promise of that day would put you under a curse called ” The Christian Wife of Today”.

I didn’t know how I took you for granted forcing you to obey a husbands harsh commandments.

I didn’t know that the ring would cause a sting from the nine tailed whip my tongue could fling, putting you in slave bondage when your supposed to be my queen;

I didn’t know how far I fell when I failed to source you love; I didn’t know that I would be the cause for your eyelid waterfalls.

I didn’t know that I was the one who was supposed to fill your emotional tank, instead of attending to you I took my seat & commenced to drink, watching NFL highlights, while missing the key to my life…

So I wrote this to apologize, please let MY hand wipe away the tears from your eye’s,

Let me be your king who commands the Oceans to relinquish their pearls to you,

Let me be the man who satisfies your inner girl;

Please let me repay you for the time you’ve lost.

I repent to you & accuse myself, because, without you my good is lost & my favor meets death;

So I ask for your forgiveness with a sincere & sorrowful breath–

Please forgive me my wife…,

I Didn’t Know….

This poem was inspired by the powerful healing ministry my marriage is exposed to. I’m thankful that I’m blessed to say my wife & I are stronger than ever. I’m open with this poem because it’s my hope that it will spark a fire in those who read this, and in those who share with me the same desire for a successful marriage . – Edward T.

Sometimes we get so caught up in the urgency of completing our task, trying to grab that last piece of the puzzle that will bring everything together in our lives that we find ourselves forgetting to commit our ways to the Lord, we find ourselves lost lacking Gods direction, we find ourselves burning with intense…

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URGENCY

By Edward Taylor III

My sense of urgency is burning me,

My tears fall with intense fervency,

The hunger for purpose is yearning to bursting free,

With my eye’s of faith I dissect my path with the accuracy of a surgeons craft;

I can see past the clouds of gray looking forward to my sunny day;

So I pray with expectation, actively wait’n, for the day I will change this nation,

Realizing greatness is patient I turn from frustration, depression, & unrighteous aggression,

I calm my spirit that I may learn my lesson, immersing myself into wisdom,

Preparing my mind to comprehend vision;

MY SENSE OF URGENCY IS BURNING ME SO,

My anxiousness is taunting me like Edgar’s crow,

NEVERMORE!

NEVERMORE!

Nevermore will I allow the trial of my patience to vex me so heavily ;

My urgency is urging me to launch out before my time,

But I will not trade my pearl for swine, this purpose is mine, which I commit to the LORD,

& WE’LL ALL SEE IT…

In his time…

We all have a race to run, we all have a finish line we must cross, the question is how will you finish? Will you finish strong? Or will you limp across the line barely making it, if you make it at all; My hope for all those who are reading this is that we all will join faith with the Apostle Paul who said- “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.” (2TIM 4:7-8) Run strong Saints; know in your heart of hearts that the victory is yours… I dedicate this poem to the sent man of GOD over my life Apostle Waller, This is…

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My Race

By Edward Taylor III

“ON YOUR MARKS… ”

“GET SET…”

BANG!

I’m gaining success, losing failure,

I’m gaining success, losing failure,

I’m gaining success, losing failure,

I hear my adversaries losing breath sounding like Darth Vader wheezing,

MY EYE’S,

Wide open, I can see my finish line,

My past failures I left behind;

With every stride I glide, my feet strike the ground with the rhythm of a

Tick, tock…,

Tick, tock…,

Tick…,

I’m gaining success, losing failure,

I’m gaining success, losing failure,

I’m gaining success, losing failure,

My vision becomes clearer, my way I find, I tell myself,

“Just stay in your lane Edward”;

Word I breathe,

Promises of God,

My hope I cleave,

Victory is claimed with every meter gained,

I’m in the last turn,

“Okay, lean into the turn,”

“Hit your drive faze”

“SPRINT”!!!

The finish line is getting closer!

My purpose is getting closer!

My vision is getting closer!

“LEAN”!

I cross the finish line in record time,

“YES”;

I’ve gained my success- in my marriage,

I’ve gained my success- in my home,

I’ve gained my success- in my ministry,

I’ve gained my success- in my finances;

I stand on the platform of champions;

I ran my race & finished my course;

I won this race called life.

GLORY!!!

Getting tired of the radio blasting the hottest & latest artist only, all day everyday, missing the classics I grew-up with in the 80’s & 90’s; Seeing how the artist coming out today have no depth to what their saying, it seems like all people want to do is just dance these day’s, call me old fashioned, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to dance but what about the music that moved you to think: To think about the way things are around you: To think about life and how you can change it for the better. So I put this call out to all the young men & women with the passion for a pen & a pad, go deeper in your thought let your inspiration inspire others & lets start a movement back to the…

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Age of Poetry

by Edward Taylor III

Let me compose a question & let the melody provoke you to thought,

Can we make it back?

Back to the days, back in the day, when imagination was

accepted truth;

Back when honesty flowed off the lips with pure innocence,

Back when we climbed the ladder of innovation to reach the peak of creativity,

To inject words that caused people to say –

“Man that really speaks to me…”

I hope to see those day’s again, before man craved the taste for sin,

Before man sold his gift for a slice of bread & an illegal kiss…

Can we make back to this?

Back to when words had power, back before the radio projected mindless chants five times an hour,

Leaving me sour, asking questons like-

” where’s the freshness” ?

“Where’s the voices that spoke of love, heartache, struggle,

& triumph” ?

“Where’s the passion for the truth, the lust for righteousness” ?

Has it been abandoned?

Lost in the mix of money, women, jewels, & drugs…

Fame…?

Is that what you sold your birthright for?

Your moment in the sun, your 15 minutes a top the plato #1…

Come on son…

Can we get back to the age where we treasured the old

& protected the new?

Back to the age where words on a page resounded throughout

eternities gaze;

Can’t you hear wisdom’s cry,

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

To me;

Come back to the age of renaissance,

Come back young King,

Come back to the age where poetry sings…

This is a poem I wrote during my church’s Together Ministry for the married couple’s; I bless God that I can share moments like this with the woman I love & who makes this life a…

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Time Well Spent

by Edward Taylor III

From what I observe at this point in time people enjoying life sublime,

Husband & wife enjoying time shared, while the cares of the day begin to disappear as the seconds tick away,

Nothing left but the laughter of friends, displaying outwardly feelings held with-in,

These are the moments I enjoy, looking around at a world rightly fit,

This is life:

This is time well spent…

Dusk, So often we pass through this moment of the day, so engulfed in our activities, we rarely find the time to appreciate the amazing gift of masterful creativity displayed for us at the end of each day; I urge you to take some time to stare out your window for just a moment, take a breath, be grateful, & slip away into…

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SUNSETS’ PORTRAIT

By Edward Taylor III

A rarely captured masterpiece begins to form with the skillful touch of a painter’s brush,

Clouds lightly shaded with a whisper of rose line a blue highlighted evening sky.

A hint of pollen rides upon the breeze of this soft summers’ eve.

The sun begins to retire its post in wake of night’s new moon-

The horizon dances with the colors of autumn as day fades into night;

The rush of life begins to slow..;

The last burst of orange reclines to memory, & just as briskly as it arrives

It sets.

All that is left is the reflection of what once was

A Day…,

A Time…,

A Life…

All concluded by a moment under the shadow of Sunsets’ Portrait…

“A gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of him that hath it: whithersoever it turneth,it prospereth.”(Pro 17:8) Do not neglect the gift with-in:But rather know that the gift of God placed in you is meant to be shared by the world. People of God we are to display & proclaim the magnificent grace of God on this Earth! “By the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain” – Apostle Paul (COR 15:10)Be found in the like precious faith of the Apostle Paul & realize for yourselves that you were not given a gift in vain: But rather realize you are what you are by the grace of God, a wonderful extraordinary…

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Gift

By Edward Taylor III

Watching atmosphere tears hit against the glass as I pass the time away considering the events of my day,

I start to realize the weight of troubles on my mind,

Trying not to stress I comfort myself knowing that I’m blessed,

But still there’s something else…?

A gift has been imparted to me, the remarkable ability to transfer pain, joy, love, & sorrow onto paper.

I understand that the gift I have received is one of many ways to explain the trials of life.

The emotions felt in every word are as sincere as the untainted love felt when a loving mother see’s her child for the first time.

I lookout scanning the dream like scene of trees dancing in the breeze, their leaves blending with the atmosphere tears, which fall from the sky above;

Then I hear the call, the same call my brothers & sisters hear when their gift beckons them,

It pull’s us into a realm of immeasurable creativity, inspiring works that will be etched onto the very tablet of time itself;

When our works are completed our emotions, our hearts, & our lives are then put on display.

You see us, you hear us, & you read us, this is who we are, gifts right there for the whole world to experience.

We are poets, song writers, musicians, & painters.

We are Artist…

We are Gifts…

Dream Day or Day Dream? Is a poem I entered for a contest for FORD Motor Company,The winning prize was your poem or story becoming a commercial and you would win a 2010 Ford Mustang. Well I didn’t win so I’ve decided to post my entry to see what you guys think about it; is it a winner? You tell me, this is my…

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Dream Day or Day Dream?

By Edward Taylor III

As I Wake up in the morning there’s only one thing on my mind, my first drive in my supercharged beast of a mustang;

I ignore the demands of my wife & kids until I hear the voice of my Angel ask me if I can make a diaper run.

Without an answer I grab my keys & head out the door embraced by the clear blue sky & the burning rays of sun shine.

I look at my gleaming custom oval blue pony as the sunlight bounces off its black & chrome 20 inch track shoes.

Opening the door I slide inside & get hugged into position by the black leather & blue suede bucket seats,

I slide the key into the ignition awakening all eight hundred force-fed ponies,

I fondle the gearshift into the desired position, simultaneously grabbing my sunglasses,

As I drive up to a fresh red light I begin to notice that no one else is on the road with me, an evil sinister grin finds a place on the face of a saint,

The engine revs to screaming heights, the light turns green, & I stomp the go pedal & disappear into a cloud of Smokey rubber, at the same time a thought passes through my mind,

“Man, I Love Day’s Like This”!!!

YES! Summer has finally hit the North West, so to celebrate this special occasion I wrote this. I hope you enjoy it as you take a journey to the beach with me on a beautiful…

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SUMMERS DAY

BY Edward Taylor III

The scent of French Fries mingled with the pollen of newly budding flowers fill the air,

juicy burgers & sweet teas followed by waffle cones dripping their sweet tears liter the tables of board walk bistros,

While sun drenched bodies are massaged by the clear blue sky, Cool waves run onto the sea-shore interrupting a barefoot stroll along the beach;

A pleasant conversation takes place in the background, Two lovers holding hands celebrate their 52nd summer together, while a young man kneels to his love under the shade of a tree;

The sound of classic beauties, rumbling by, in a parade so pristine they can’t help but to catch the twinkle of an eye;

Roller blader’s & concrete surfers roll by, as the laughter of two best friends filter through the noise of their favorite summer song;

Not a cloud in site to accompany children flying their kites,

I smile as I turn & walk away, my heart swollen with joy, As I’m blessed to say,

Thank you LORD for this beautiful Summers day…

“Where there is no vision, the people perish” (Pro 29:18) your dreams, your visions, are the very essence & fabric of Gods purpose & intent for your life. So many spend their lives yearning but never seeking for the answer to these questions “what is my purpose?” or “Why am I here?” Instead you spend your time & your energy in frustration living “paycheck to paycheck” ignoring the cry of your heart. This is a poem of that very thing; a poem of what happens…

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When a dreamer Stops Dreaming

By Edward Taylor III

What happens when a dreamer stops dreaming?

When there are no more goals to hold his gaze,

His passion a prisoner behind the bars of selfish rage,

Nightmares of failure haunt his sleepless nights,

Frustration begins to consume his starved will to fight;

His expressions are now empty,

They’ve become idle words on a page;

All he wanted was for people to listen & be inspired,

But no one paid any mind to the gift that he gave,

So the dreamer stopped dreaming in the process of time,

His pen left useless, no more thoughts to line;

So what happens when a dreamer stops dreaming?

This is a question I ask myself;

The answer to which remains unknown,

Simply because this dreamer is determined to dream,

Even if he is destined to dream Alone.

Keep dreaming & keep your vision a live GOD BLESS- “For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry”. (Hab 2:3)