Treasure

              Treasure        P. J. Murphy

I will place your hand

In his hand,

Step back

To my place of pride,

Hear you proclaim

Those age-old promises

And watch

My baby girl

Become a Bride.

I will shed a tear

For all the days

We laughed and played,

And the nights

I sang your lullabies.

For the myriad memories

Of who we were,

And who we will

Always be.

Daughter. Father.

I will hold your heart

In my heart

While I bless your love,

Your new adventures,

And smile

My happiness for

Your happiness,

And my privilege

To be always in your life

I will not 'give you away'

You own your destiny,

I will proudly escort

A vibrant young woman

Of matchless strength and beauty

As you go forth to claim your world.

And I will keep you safe

In that hallowed place

Where a Father keeps his treasures.

Steerage

 

Steerage      P. J. Murphy

Sailing seas of sideroad sedge

Far from vast tarry ocean

Avast ye denizens of hedge

Beware this cyclic motion

I steer my vessel on it's course

( with checks to port and starboard )

Yell at the sea-cows, till I'm hoarse

This boat must reach it's harbour

Full steam ahead, the coast is clear

All Doldrums navigated

The boat's bell sounds for all to hear

The Captain is awaited.

Now journey's ended, clipper docked

Captain disembarking

Another pleasant voyage clocked,

No pile-ups, tolls or parking...

Praefectus Iudaeorum

He troubles me, this Nazarene,
His humble words do not accord
with anarchy or insurrection
yet these others call him Lord.

He speaks no hate for Caesar's Rome,
Yet Jews would have me crucify
This man who's calm serenity
Does Judas' calumny belie

Were't not for the Sanhedrin's ire
My Prefecture would stay it's hand
and send this strange but gentle man
to exile in Judaic land

But yet they bay and thirst for blood
"He Blashphemeth", rabble cries
These Jews hold no respect for Rome
Their hatred for Him mystifies

I thought their anger would appease
Once I had sent Him to be scourged
But with His bloody body shown
"He must be crucified" they urged.

I think myself a humane man
I view their bloodlust with distaste
I wash my hands of local laws
But bitterly decry this waste ...

~ ~ ~

And now my days are numbered short
I wander, and my eyes grow dim
I pray to Pluto, as I should ...
And yet my thoughts are fixed on Him

~ ~ ~


This was written for an AllPoetry contest "Close Encounters with Jesus",  where the task was to write a rhyming poem in the first person from the perspective of someone who met Jesus, giving their feelings and reactions to the meeting, and to the situation. It won Silver for second placing.