The Poet’S Scribe

By H. Lee Forbes

The Poets Scribe is not your average book of religious poetry. Instead,
it is a compilation of morning devotional thoughts in verse with an
accompanying scriptural text for further reference. It is the hope of the
author that it will be received with enough enthusiasm to publish many
more of the poems God has been generously sharing with Him morning
by morning over the past three years. Each poem is unique in itself as,
each morning, the poems are written strictly by the inspiration God
shares word-for-word for a closer walk with Him. To God be all the
glory. Amen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543424355

H. Lee Forbes

Contractor by vocation and Bible expositor and teacher by avocation I have had the pleasure of traveling to different parts of the world as a public speaker and friend. I have a background in commercial diving, as a paramedic, radio talk show host, pilot, restaurateur, welder and now freelance writer of sorts. I am a father to six daughters and one son and dad to a host of animals. I have lived in everything from a car to a mansion, been broken, crushed and mended. My work reflects triumph and failure, challenge and success but most of all a love for life and the God who gives it. I started writing devotional poetry three years ago when I felt impressed with the first stanza of poetic verse during my morning devotions. I have since penned one poem every morning until now we stand at over 1000 poems. This will be the first book with hopefully many more to follow.

Book preview

A CHILD’S PLAY

An unexpected pleasure

Did I have the other day

While sitting in a meeting

As the preacher droned away

For playing there before me

Was a child with golden hair

Engrossed in teaching lessons

Of which she was unaware

For laying there before her

On that rustic wooden bench

Were tiny, little needles

And some broken wooden sticks

And slowly with a method

Of her own that I could see

She shared with me some lessons

About Christianity

So first, I watched her take a sprig

Of needles all combined

The way that God had made them

By their binding all confined

And then she slowly took them

From their binding one by one

And scattered them with tenderness

Before the noonday sun

To represent God’s people

Who are often quite confused

Neglecting invitation

As they soundly do refuse

To go to the community

To share the truths they’ve learned

For fear they’ll be rejected

And their message will be spurned

And then she took three sticks

That were too short the hole to bridge

And made them work together

With the center as the ridge

That rested on the others

That were crossed just on the ends

On which the center stick could find

Foundation to depend

And then she took six little sticks

Of different lengths and size

And placed them in an order

Right before my very eyes

That illustrated how we grow

When ordered by the hands

Of Him who makes us new again

When following God’s plan

And then she took the chaos

Of the stick’s diversity

And put them all together

Without perfect symmetry

But in a pattern quite unique

From what I did expect

A pattern with a lesson

For the wise and circumspect

As to the side, one little stick

Was left alone and small

Until by her persuasion

It was brought to join them all

As in a perfect union

Each enhanced the synergy

In what had been intended

By her creativity

And thus I was enlightened

Not by preacher and his words

But by a tiny child of God

Whose words I never heard

Isaiah 11:6; Mark 10:14–15

H OW OFTEN ARE we truly attentive to the events happening around us? Seriously, how often do we miss those special blessings that most people, if not ourselves as well, would find insignificant or of little value? The preceding poem recounts just such an occasion that was nearly lost in the file of insignificance. This summer, as our daughter was working at a summer camp, we had the privilege of going up to see her and enjoy a beautiful, relaxed, and rewarding weekend. For the divine service, the sermon was held in a forest chapel, which was composed of wooden benches in rows in a clearing in the woods with a rustic trellis as the backdrop from which the minister could share God’s Word. As the minister for that weekend spoke, I was a little less than inspired and began to peruse the crowd, looking for something of interest to focus on. (Not intentionally, mind you.) To my delight, I happened to capture a perfect sight right before my eyes—this precious little child of God quietly preaching her own sermon not intentionally but really quite clearly. There, kneeling right in front of me was this beautiful blond-haired little girl, maybe five or six years of age, playing reverently with a little pile of sticks and pine needles that she had picked up from the forest floor. I immediately nudged my family seated next to me and pointed to each arrangement, explaining quietly the spiritual significance with which we were being blessed. Remarkably, we all gained quite a wonderful blessing from this little girl’s ministry, and as insignificant as the world may believe a child playing with a little pile of sticks can be, now you have too.

A PERSONAL THING

The unexpected consequence

Of holding other men

Aloft in our respect of them

Who also live in sin

Who also must prepare themselves

By laying self aside

And likewise need to spend more time

With Jesus as their guide

Is that our sensitivity

To what the scriptures say

Of how we need more time with God

To walk the narrow way

Is stifled into silence

Though the voice of God appeals

To spend the time alone with Him

Who strengthens us and heals

The painfulness of all our past

Of where we’ve been before

Before God showed us evidence

Of how He loves us more

More than our comprehension

Of His love could ever be

Like understanding how He made

All things we touch and see

For only as we spend

These precious moments hand in hand

With Jesus every morning

Can we start to understand

The pertinence of scripture

With our prayers to help us see

The depth of understanding

That God holds for you and me

To fathom more the secrets

And the hidden things of life

To give us the equipping

As we face the coming strife

Not in the things that others say

But through divinity

As each day God enlightens us

While there on bended knee

And places in our feeble grasp

The precious words that heal

The brokenness of other things

With which we’ve had to deal

That only by God’s grace

Can be forever cast aside

To be by us forgotten

As we constantly abide

Within His holy presence

As He longs that we should do

Obtaining every morning

Grace to fashion and renew

Us in His very image

And by Him be recognized

As His peculiar children

When He parts the eastern skies

So, friend, be not mistaken

Though what other men may say

May carry good intentions

As they walk a different way

Your only real