The Last Man And Woman On Earth
And it came to pass, in the last days,
That the world saw less of Mankind.
As the numbers fell, and weren't replaced,
The last generation walked upon the Earth.
Fewer and fewer, until just a few...
Famines, plagues and wars, they all took their toll.
Then, one day, there were only two souls left.
One man and one woman remained.
They weren't even in the same country.
As they wandered across the globe,
A sense of expectancy filled them.
Hope, faith, something driving them on.
They crossed mountains and rivers.
Years passed and the belief stayed with them.
There was another human somewhere.
Driven into a desert no mortal man should go,
They saw each other in the distance...
So tired they couldn't run, they walked on.
Finally, they could see each other's faces.
One man, one woman, one burning sun.
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poem by Denis Martindale
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The Angel Told Me
Our little girl walked in the house,
I knew something was wrong...
And that is why I told my spouse,
In case we must be strong...
Our daughter was a gentle child,
Not given to pretence,
Completely calm, not acting wild,
A credit to her friends...
That day was different, we could tell,
No smile upon her face,
As if amazed, she sat a spell,
Recalling what took place...
'I've seen an angel! ' she explained,
'His wings were ten feet wide! '
And when she spoke, her voice was strained,
As if choked up inside...
The Doctor came and heard her tale
When we had left the room,
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poem by Denis Martindale
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The Dreary Bleary Theory
The universal splattered stars dance mid the endless void
With planets such as Earth and Mars plus passing asteroid
And so on Earth as sunshine streams, life stretches forth and grows,
At night a few encounter dreams in which some may suppose.
When Man came forth from muddy earth with body, spirit, soul,
He had no body to give birth, could not fulfil that goal.
So out of Adam, Eve was made, one spare rib was her form
And thus before him, now displayed, a helpmate, soft and warm.
Then darkness spread when sin first breathed, calamity and woe,
The likes of which are scarce believed, yet some are in the know.
For Heaven waits and Hell does, too, beyond this mortal realm,
So much they change Man's point of view when God is at the helm.
Can it be so that Men prefer a theory to the truth?
So much that they must now defer to follies in their youth?
The Gospel tells us why we're here and choices we must make,
For none of us are crystal clear and all God's laws we break.
Though evolution's taught as fact in Schools both far and wide,
It's to the Bible we react for holy peace inside.
Without forgiveness, Hell awaits the meek and mild and lost,
Lord Jesus died to change our fates, for our sins paid the cost.
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Starving For Affection
The Prince within the Palace feasts, so shall the common man,
So shall the tame and callous beasts, because that is God's plan.
Regardless of this daily meal, we know some fast and pray,
Because their faith in God is real, yet what has God to say?
Through Jesus Christ, we learn to share, no matter, rich or poor.
From riches or what's left to spare, so others may get more.
And some need more or else they die! They, too, must eat and drink.
For each one needs his own supply, to do much more than think.
The starving think of food today, clean water here and now.
Tomorrow's coming on its way, what, then, will God allow?
Yet don't blame Him who made the Earth, the mountains and the seas.
Each one of us must prove his worth to bring the starving peace.
What use are riches none can eat? Yet money's known as bread.
It cannot make your soul complete, God's love does that instead.
That's why Lord Jesus shared out food, turned water into wine.
He tells us, 'Feed the multitude! ' How dare we, then, decline?
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poem by Denis Martindale
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The Lovely Little Fairy Tale
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago,
There lived a little black girl whose teeth were white as snow!
She knew that she was beautiful and wonderful as well,
For everyone she ever met, these precious truths would tell.
One morning in the garden, when she was wandering round,
She heard a rustling in the air, a tiny, gentle sound.
She spotted something moving past and slowly gliding by...
Yes, there it was! Love's spell to cast! A gracious butterfly!
'My word! ' said she, in utmost awe! 'God made you, oh, so tiny!
Yet there you flap without a flaw! Your outstretched wings so shiny!
I wish I were a flutterby! I'd flutter by right now! '
Then she let out the longest sigh... A prayer God must allow!
Then all at once, her brand new clothes began to shrink so small...
Her size reduced to match a rose and that's not big at all...
Then milky silky angel wings stretched out at shoulder height!
And, suddenly, the joy that brings gave her the power of flight!
So up she went, like Betty Boop, rejoicing with a smile!
Shen she began to loop the loop, like Tinkerbell with style!
'My word, I'm getting good at this! I like this fairy much! '
She fluttered by in perfect bliss above the rabbit hutch!
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Forgiveness Of Sins
In truth, the hardest thing I've done,
Was turning from revenge
Against the evil of someone
Whose life was like a stench...
For he was rotten to the core,
Determined to be bad
And I despised him all the more
With all the hate I had...
Just like a cancer in my heart,
Hate festered deep inside,
But that was simply for a start,
For love within me died...
And faith and hope and charity
Lay shrivelled in the dust,
Till God took me to Calvary
With my own sins discussed...
Without excuses, I stood still
And stared at Jesus Christ,
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poem by Denis Martindale
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A Poem Is...
A poem is a set of thoughts some writer may express,
Such that with these as his cohorts, who knows if he will bless?
Yet if he does, then shake his hand and pat him on the back!
If not, then banish from this land, or else give him the sack!
A poem is a set insight some writer may relay,
That helps to pass some stormy night or some cold rainy day...
If not, a night without a storm, a day with sunshine filled,
It matters not if hot, cold, warm, as long as we are thrilled...
A poem is a set of themes some writer thinks as wise,
Enough to share with us his dreams with reams before our eyes...
As if to serve some higher will, or merely help his tribe,
Ten years may pass, yet he writes still, as if some royal scribe...
A poem is a precious gift, some writer's masterpiece,
Through which the reader has to sift, its nuggets to release...
Or else it's just some words that rhyme, or unrhymed phrases penned,
In either case, was it sublime, as if a brand new friend?
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poem by Denis Martindale
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Thought-Provoking Questions
Across the TV screen they scrolled,
The questions to the show...
While just one answer could be told,
Still questions were in flow...
The compere and the guest still spoke,
With comments to explain...
Yet were the questions there a joke,
Eye-candy or eye-strain?
I tuned out what was being said,
To view the scrolling text...
Because I chose to read instead,
So not to be perplexed...
Those questions were both great and small,
Yet by them I felt blessed,
Then suddenly there was a call
To compere and to guest...
I thus ignored the text below
And listened once again...
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poem by Denis Martindale
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He Is Alive!
Though they called me Doubting Thomas,
I know Lord Jesus lives!
I know Lord Jesus died for us
And, through Him, God forgives!
The Lamb of God was sacrificed,
God's utmost love to show...
I tell you, Jesus is the Christ,
For this truth you must know...
While some were there when Jesus died,
As witnesses on Earth,
In Heaven, Christ is glorified,
God's angels know His worth...
They magnify His Holy Name
With praises evermore,
For life will never be the same
For Mankind, to be sure...
In truth, He is alive! Amen!
God's Holy King and Priest,
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poem by Denis Martindale
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The Source Of All Grief
When folks are selfish to the core, the world is not enough,
The hunger grows for more, more, more without God's joy or love...
And at home, or school or college, or work, or rest or play,
If without God's love and knowledge, the soul will soon decay...
Then each sin will bear its harvest, its poison in our lives,
So souls get cursed instead of blessed and from then on each strives!
A war in Heaven and in Hell is fought for souls on Earth,
Until we bid this world farewell, our souls are all we're worth!
That's why God speaks to rich and poor, dismissing not a one,
Forgiveness offered for each flaw through Jesus Christ, His Son...
The Saviour taught us how to pray, the Father's face to seek,
That's why God's children night and day preserve this link unique...
The selfish soul is purged within, washed clean by Blood divine,
Such that it flees from every sin for which it used to pine...
Reborn with love from Heaven's Throne, God's Spirit then comes near!
To prove to us we're not alone, to make things crystal clear...
Eternity is thus revealed in Scriptures old and new,
The world is like a harvest field for Christian and for Jew...
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poem by Denis Martindale
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