KISSED BY THE BREATH OF GOD

Cooling breath of a whispered wind
That kisses the beaded brow
Of sweated effort in strenuous task
That a man who labours now

Knows its cooling and is so glad
To have it touch his face
A reprieve from the heat that stifles him
And surrounds him in his place

Of solemn toil and honest work
That causes him to perspire
To lift again his spirits high
When his body would begin to tire

How then of saints who work and toil
To sow and reap the sin field sod
Who are refreshed to labour on
When kissed by the breath of God

Weary ones who work so hard
Who tire in the labour field
Know that refreshing whispered wind
When wearied bodies would yield

Then labour on in what you do
Sow or reap when wheat heads nod
Faint not for you will be refreshed
When kissed by the breath of God

Colin Moffett

WE KNOW NOT THE HOUR

We know not the hour when fleeing breath
Bids us farewell and ushers in death
When we close our eyes and life says goodbye
It steals away and then we will die

We know not the hour but it is surely coming
Each breath we take a death note is humming
In the nostrils of all who breathe in air
Death’s scythe is reaping and none it will spare

For God said the soul that sins surely will die
In Him is the truth and no shadow of a lie
Ever formed itself on His holy lips
And time from a sinner surely it slips

Fast and fleeting; so quickly it goes
How much of it left nobody knows
Carrying us surely down to the grave
What of the soul if it is not safe?

What then of your riches and treasures of wealth
No medicine will restore your body to health
When death’s chill hand touches your brow
And coldly it says; I come for you now

We know not the hour of the trumpet blast
Sounding in triumph; Jesus comes at last
When He will gather His saints in rapture to the air
Tell me my friend will I see you there?

For I know with assurance He is coming some hour
The king in His glory; mighty in power
If living when He comes my raptured body will soar
To meet with the saints who have gone on before

The hands of the clock circling its face
Pointing to time going by you can never replace
Like swift flowing sand in the hour glass
See now quickly time and life it will pass

Grasp time then sinners its precious moments not waste
For now is the time; to Jesus make haste
Call for His mercy for in fear you will cower
If He comes and you are not ready this very hour

Colin Moffett

THE WINGS OF A PRAYER

I will send to God on the wings of a prayer
The flight of faith will carry it there
To a loving Father willing to hear
Who listens to His child with an ever open ear

They will bring to my Father thanks for His giving
His blessings for the day and breath for my living
His strength for my weakness to make me more strong
And His arms when I am weary to carry me along

The wings of prayer will take to Him my pleading
For lifting of burdens and healing I am needing
And asking for guidance and seeking His will
While I wait for His answer humbled and still

The wings of prayer may get ruffled in their going
Tossed about in wild winds of a storm that is blowing
Strong in their flight,; they rise above the tempest blown
And rest at the feet of the King on His throne

Strong wings of prayer upwards they fly
Rising from earth to Heaven on high
The longings of my heart is the sound of their beating
Then folded and still when they come to Gods seating

Sweet joy I may have and lots of life’s sorrow
And times of happiness and sadness I exchange and I borrow
For help for my burdens or for thanks for His care
I will tell and ask of God on the wings of a prayer

Colin Moffett

THE SOUND OF JESUS

It is whispered on the breeze
Through rustling leaves of mighty trees
And crackling breath of fire flame
Tell the sound of Jesus name

The sound of it in sweet bird song
Or in the voice of thunder calling strong
The mighty waves of the oceans roar
The sound of His name on sandy shore

For the redeemed it is everywhere
His blessed name sounds in the air
When all of nature with one voice
Sounds His name giving voice

Come you saints who would claim
Life eternal in Jesus name
Lift you voices; with joy abound
And let your praises for your Saviour sound

For what other name brought such delight
To darkened souls black as night
He freed from sin; He took our blame
And there is life and hope in Jesus name

How sweet it sounds upon the breath
Jesus name when facing death
When dying believer will take His hand
This name will carry them to Glory land

Of all the music one may play
Or honeyed words the world can say
To delight the ear; there is none
That sounds so sweet as Jesus; God’s own Son

Jesus; how sweet it sounds in my ear
The name I love and hold so dear
I know that I am Heaven bound
Let all my praise to Jesus sound

Colin Moffett

FROM THE FIELD OF SIN

Laughing wind it plays in delightful glee
With drifting leafs from off the tree
They dance with her in circles round
Then rest themselves upon the ground

Coloured gems alight with red and gold
Yellow and brown that branches hold
Twiggy fingers gnarled that must let go
And drop their jewels to ground below

Once green their dress that did not stay
Yet in richer colours they must decay
Leafy carpet thick on forest floor
Will rustle awhile and then be no more

The autumn mist dewdrops shall weep
As through the valley she will creep
For she knows well that death’s around
Creeping silently by without a sound

Weep she does for a harvest coming
Gone now the days when bees were humming
Coloured wings of butterflies folded up at last
And all to come is the icy blast

Her dewdrops are like tears of God
Who returns all life to the sod
In spring He gave the seed to sow
Now in autumn fall a time to mow

A time to gather the harvest in
From fruitful field and field of sin
That which is gathered from the soil
Feeds only body and rewards our toil

But a golden sun turns to a silver moon
And a harvest of souls is coming soon
When a scythe will swing and death will call
And lives drift away like leafs in fall

Coloured gems they are but for awhile
Soon decaying away in forest pile
We who dress in sin’s coloured attire
Swept up like them and ready for the fire

Our righteousness is false beauty you see
Decaying away like the leaves from the tree
Autumn winds whisper and speak in the ear
Are you ready for the reaper as he draws near?

Spring saw your birth and summer, life run
Autumn now warns, soon all will be done
The lull before the biting and bitter icy blast
And winter’s cold shroud that soon now be cast

Beautiful days of autumn of golden leafs and red
Where mist of the morning creeps along the river bed
A harvest that is reaped and safely gathered in
Off the fruitful field and from the field of sin

Colin Moffett

SPECIAL ASSISTANCE

Special assistance, S/A for short
Wrote on a ticket at the airport
Given to my son for his first flight
Special assistance to keep him just right

To aid him in airport and to fly in the air
At each stage going through someone would be there
No need to worry, help for my son
To see he was kept right, all would be done.

I have a ticket though not held in my hand
It is for my flight to a far of land
On it written Special assistance, S/A for short
To get me to Heaven from earth’s airport

I will be guided each step until ready for my flight
For Jesus wrote it there to keep me just right
He wrote it with His blood, it is my guarantee
That His special assistance will be given to me

He even bought the ticket for my flight to the sky
When He went to Calvary to suffer and die
He knows the way home for He arose to the air
So I can trust the S/A on my ticket written there

In airports we know many hours waiting around
Before our flights are called and we leave the ground
But however long my waiting on earth shall be
His promise on this ticket is special assistance to me

Colin Moffett

Photo courtesy of Jeannine McMullen....thank you Jeannine!

SWEET HAWTHORN TREE

I sat against you sweet hawthorn tree
Your leafy canopy shading me
Whiling away the peaceful day
In warming heat of early May

Listening to the blackbird sing
Her song of praise in joy of spring
I saw your blossoms white as snow
Dance in breeze soft and slow

In summer days I passed you by
You stood serene beneath cloudless sky
Then in autumn mist your berries red
Were decked like rubies upon your head

When biting frost coated winter morn
Your branches bare with piercing thorn
I gaze at you sweet hawthorn tree
What truths of gospel you tell to me

Your blossoms white swaying soft and slow
Speak of the One purer than snow
Hanging from a branch as He bled
His blood running down like your berries red

What sharpness in your fiercesome thorn
Like ones that crowned Him on that morn
Then took Him out to crucify
On bark of tree beneath eastern sky

Your buds that open up in spring
Speak of new life this truth you bring
His life renewed and new life for me
These things you tell sweet hawthorn tree

Colin Moffett

A COUNTRY POET

I breathe the air on the Tully hillside
As I view the vista wide
Of its abundant treasures I take note
For I am simply a country poet

To tell in rhyme the best I can
Of sunlight dancing on the River Bann
And in the distance far away
The gleaming waters of sweet Lough Neagh

In reflective thought I stand alone
To view the village of Portglenone
In the distance beneath sky of blue
The Sperrin Mountains are in view

As I turn in wonder all around
I see Slemish Mountain rise from the ground
Shades of green in every field
Or ploughed brown to bring forth yield

A panoramic view I see it all
My home in the distance looking small
To my Creator I will devote
The praise of my heart, His country poet

For I am of the country and the country in me
A town or a city is where I can’t be
It would break my heart not to walk hillside or glen
Or wade the stream of flowered meadow again

Thank you Lord for giving me this land
To view its beauty created by your hand
Another thing I surely must note
Is thank God for making me His country poet

Colin Moffett

A COUNTRY LANE

In tranquil peace of country lane
Each hedgerow crowned with lofty trees
As the breeze it played and tossed their leaves
Two friends prayed beneath them on their knees

In union now when one had travelled
Across Ocean waters deep and wide
On Irish soft bladed grass of sun kissed green
They closed their eyes side by side

The primroses smiled at bluebells nodding
As butterflies danced that summer’s day
Sweet birdsong drifted in the pure fresh air
When God came near to hear them pray

No chapel wall stones closed them in
But hedgerow and trees growing high
No ornate ceiling covered their bowed heads
Just mighty dome of deep blue sky

Sweet was the time yet so tearful too
As their prayers from lips so heartfelt
Ascended to their Saviour up above
From flower clad bank where they knelt

Two friends they know since that wondrous day
Their prayers together were not in vain
For God surely blessed them since they prayed
And talked to Him in a quiet country lane

Colin Moffett

MY COUNTRY AND MY HOME

Blue Hills of Antrim and green glens as well
The costal road by the mighty ocean swell
Meadows and forests and where rivers run free
The countryside of home is where I will be

Breathing the air so pure and so clean
Treading upon the grass so rich and so green
The beauty on offer is what I enjoy
It pulls at the heartstrings of this country boy

Oh Ireland my country, my dear lovely land
Created with such beauty by God’s mighty hand
As my life lingers on and I can breathe still awhile
I’ll thank Him each day for this Emerald Isle

I will walk this land as long as I may
The hillsides and valleys and by the coastal way
And ponder in my heart, how can it be
That a land more beautiful is waiting for me

When I close my eyes and bid a last farewell
To the hills, quiet forests and the mighty ocean swell
When Ireland her glens I never more will roam
I shall see greater beauty in my heavenly land of home

Colin Moffett