Home (1936)

Annette Sophie Poem "Home" (1936)

I.
With blighted hope or joyful heart
With weary steps or hansom cart,
Home is the stage where we play our part,
The mirror reflecting what thou art.
II.
Home -- God's gift
to mothers -- her child to rear and uplift,
to mold and chisel by her own hand,
a true, noble and worthy man.
III.
Home:  first and last,
The shore where life's anchor art cast.
Where thou may struggle and fall,
Yet with spirit high, although back to the wall.
IV.
Be thou roaming the earth.
Life, all sunshine and mirth.
Alas, at eventide
Thou hear, "in thy home abide."
V.
From dawn until the twilight hour,
the sweetest nectar with the sour
must be swallowed,
Yesterday's grief on tomorrow is mellowed.
VI.
Oh God we pray thee
May thy presence ever be
In our home.

Nature's Loveliness

Annette Sophie Poem - "Nature's Loveliness" (1936)
I.
"Cast away winter's cloak,"
Warbles the little feathered flock.
"From heaven a message we bring.
Glad tidings, it is spring!"
II.
Mysterious, overwhelming
Beauty fills thee within
Nearer to God in spring
Is every living thing.
III.
Transformation everywhere,
Rare designs drawn with utmost care.
A master's stroke -- majestic, unerring,
Clear as the babbling brook.
IV.
With the one the soul converse
Sensing its divine force,
Mingling with the few, nature's own,
Whom discouragement never slew.
V.
To the fullest measure
Thine eyes feast on priceless treasure.
The Earth is king.
It's God's will, it is spring.
VI.
To nobler thoughts and deeds
From despair to hope it leads,
Healing and soothing,
Our soul it is cleansing.
VII.
Arising from the tomb,
Beauty held in nature's womb
is giving birth
to crown the earth.
VIII.
Oh glorious springtime,
Inspiring and sublime
Nature unfurling in its glory,
A shrine for us at which to pray.

Hidden Jewels (1936)

Annette Sophie poem (1936) "Hidden Jewels"
"Hidden Jewels"
Bringing forth a treasure
Rain must be given a minute measure
Care, utmost caution,
Results are born from action.
Haste be not thy creed.
Crude or lovely patterns
are wrought by deeds.
Not the price, but cultivated soil
nurses the seeds.
Not the bandage, but surgeon's skill
cures the wound that bleeds.
The flame of love, that mother's plant,
pours from the soul a hidden giant
to conquer the baser parts,
to bringeth forth a role of finer arts.
Barred from all earthly glare,
the divine spark from heaven's sphere.
Toil, my child, will light the cave,
unveil the beauty that God thee gave.
The message that from the soul doth come
to high heights doth zoom,
charting the unknown.
Hence new thought is born.
Hidden jewels sparkle within,
untarnished, untouched, and clean.
But beware -- dim them not,
to reveal their beauty without a blot.

"Welcome" 1935

A brook in the desert sand,
Land, to a drowning man
A touch of a friendly hand,
A brother that can understand
The fragrance of a rose;
Dawn, when God seems close;
The soothing voice of love;
Hope, from heaven above,
Thou art welcome today.

A Builder

Poem by Annette Sophie

"A Builder" (Seattle, 1943)

I. Oh, could I but tools obtain
Tools, although few and crude, I feign
A masterpiece would wrought
Alack, hope today seems blurred and remote.

II. Tools, aye, there the secret lies.
The wings of thoughts to the utmost corners flies.
The spirits of the spheres thy soul contact
If thou art chosen, alack!

III. Thine own weapon thou must wield
A master's will doth never yield
A giant's sword to sharpen, or a silken thread to weave --
No scarred nor knotted tools.

IV. The master lives to build, a seer uncompared
Yea, holiness of spirit, vision unmarred,
the glow of sunset and the morning dew
must all engulf the heart and soul of you.

V. The master -- youthful or of feeble strength,
Stone by stone will lay -- though bent and faint,
Oh where is the cue ?
Nought under heaven can a master's will subdue.

VI. The flame within the hearts of Man
is lighted by the Master's hand
of our creator, thus thou become the shining light
through the wounded hours of the night.

VII. Hence, a builder be.
The glowing light must shine through thee.
Reflecting on thy masterpiece,
the hand of God.

A Dreamer
(1941)
 

Lovely and sweet is a beautiful Dream

But horror and sadness in awakening seems.
Why must it be so? Why tumble to earth
After reaching the sky?
A little bit of Heaven hath I known
And felt and most vividly seen.
Hence I shall forever preach --
The magic word of Heaven must be felt,
Not merely teached.
A Dreamer by day or night
Must build by dreaming, or the precious sight
Will vanish unto nought.
The spire on the castle must be wrought.
O, a dreamer to make a Dream come true
The image must be created by you.
No other craftsman shalt thou pursue,
Hidden in the dream is the cue.
Whence didst thou come,
O beautiful Dream?
Art thou hidden in the Heavenly blue
Or the golden sunbeam?
Must I ascend and knock at the Gate,
Or must I alone unlock my fate?
I shall pursue my Dream before surrender,
I shall plead and woo most tender,

Yea – if need I must – I shall capture my Dream

Even if death be the cost.
 

Golden Thoughts

Golden Thoughts

(1939)

 

“A beautiful morn!” said I.

“Ugh!” sneered a passerby.

New hope in a newborn day

Gets thee on thy way.

 

Alack, a sour and putrid mind

Whom Beauty will not seek

Shall never find

Nought but decay and barren fields

Upon which nothing yields.

Golden Thoughts are reared with painful care,

Nursed with truth and Beauty rare,

 

The essence of purity laid bare, and

Hence unto Heaven they do fare.

The stark, empty gulf of hate

Art full of vermin – Oh how Fate

Will strike with ruthless blow

And hate shall be thy harvest if hate thou sow!

The loveliness of love and care

In all creation God laid bare

His divine wisdom.

A deed but follow thoughts –

Thus if you kill thinkest so you must.

Hence thoughts doth kill.

Thoughts are bullets, as you will.

The infant in his mother’s arms

Doth but cry to raise alarm –

Thoughts of wisdom mixed with his milk

A little homespun yarn

Interweaved with silk, hath endurance.

Thus through the ages

Man doth rise or fall.

As he thinketh so he shall be awarded by his God.

Choose thou must betwixt tolerance and the rod.

From the cradle to the grave

You shall be judged by what you gave.

The yardstick for the Master’s use

No mortal dare abuse.

Golden thoughts bring golden deeds

On golden deeds the soul doth feed.

Thus universal harmony does not enslave but

Keeps thoughts free.