He is but a man

He is but a man
That the world doth seem to adore
Yet he is nothing more

Yes in life he made for himself a name
And did oft but dress as a dame
And dance to all fame

Ah, but a famous name
And nothing more
So will you still adore

Is he a god
That you should pay respect
Hardly (though it seems rather odd)

When one is dead
Their past sins are oft forgot
And we praise what one is not
As if they were a god

We all are but man
But dust and death
To become

And so we are dumb
To think it more than so
We have but seventy or eighty

And then tis done
Do not forget
We all are but human after all

So as we may praise
The "glories" of man
May we not forget
That he too is mortal

And holds no claim
Beyond the title of fame
When he is gone

He will to heaven or hell
So well as anyone
And no mark of his deeds
Will dismiss him so

Only but the grace of God
Can save him
His sin

-Joshua Lee Foist

Ah, these summer days

Ah, these summer days
Do seem less a thrill
Than those remembered before

This blazing heat
Doth take some tolerance
To appreciate

And still it bakes
Whether in morn or eve
It awakes

Ah, that all the world were a bit cooler
Such refreshment
Might make it all more pleasant

I have seen places where the summer days
Are glorious full of blues and grays
There is a soft sweet breeze
That blows down to one's knees

Yes, I remember these
Oft when I am in such a mood
I do not wish to be rude with my grumbling

I s'pose tis natural
When one knows of something else
Tis hard to accept

One often thinks
'But last summer twas not like this
There were beaches full of bathing and bliss'

Yet all is now too hot
And hath turned to rot
And this I care not
So it seems we must enclose our company
And look out from our window panes
And await the autumn rains

For in time twill be cooler
And the days more full
Of life outside
This despaired place

-Joshua Lee Foist

Now to ill choice

Now to ill choice
I will give here some voice
How oft you plague me
With thy insistent pleas

Yet you care little for the rest
Only it is enough you are impressed
And yet that too is short lived
You move on to the next

What am I to do with you
Your ways are too costly
And you are far too bossy
I will thee no more amuse

Though let these words not confuse
I do care for thee as I do myself
But you must learn some sense
To be patient and grateful

If all is so quickly devoured
How will you know what you like
You like to have
Yet you have not the decency to share

You must learn little one
A bit more to care
Also for the needs of others
All is not your own

Twas bought at a great and costly price
I ask that you would heed this advice
And learn to be more generous
As you have been lavished upon so generously

You have much
And you do not see
All around is poverty
Begging for but a scrap of bread

And you've much more than this
Can you not learn to give
To share with those
Who have not

I pray that in time you will
Grow more kind
And be satisfied
In those who love

May you be content
In the one above
For indeed
Tis He who has given
The mostly costly gift
Of all

-Joshua Lee Foist

So quickly the days go by

So quickly the days go by
So swiftly the seasons fly
From June to July
From summer to autumn
And autumn to winter

A splinter in time
No thicker than a dime
Yet more costly still
We are caught in its thrill
We are lost in its will

Yet will we remember
When it has past
How it was spent
Will we with joy
Recall
Those early days
Of Fall

Or will hurry
To fill another glass
That we may not ponder
Alas, we think
Upon that which we did
Too hastily drink

It cannot be undrunk
Its poison hath already
Begun its work
Slowly the years
Turn to months
To days and hours

Brief moments at best
So shall they be spent
In one spontaneous event
Or will we slowly savor
Each sip
For all it may hold

Till the days grow old
And the light grows dimmer
Will we remember
In those remaining hours
How we spent our days

Was it invested
In worldly recognition
And praise
Or was it founded
On something
Beyond this world
Beyond the pages of this book

When its story is complete
Will we find we are but
One of many
Lost in a repository
Of reminiscent
Origin

To at last discover
What lies beyond its cover
The author of each work
Each line of literature
Written by his hand

Which crafted so beautifully
Each work of art
And adorned it with
An emblem
Of his heart

Here lie the most
Cherished of all
His works
That are seated
In His Great Hall

-Joshua Lee Foist

Ah, to reminisce upon this

Ah, to reminisce upon this
This quiet moment
To ponder and to pray
Upon rays of the early day

Morning has broke
Yet sorrow in me doth choke
As I gasp in the splendor
Yet not oft enough do I surrender

So I remain
As I am in this panic
Frozen in time
Steadily engaging my crime

All too often to return
How I yearn to grow
To change
To know what purpose
Lies ahead

But just a glance
A moment from this
Could be sorrow or bliss
Must it all be based on
The end result

If not all joy
Will I revolt
And engage my fancy
My facade
My only god

So caught up
In this trance
Lost in the emotion
Drunk on the latest truth

But satisfaction
Is a season
A destination
Without reason

And this too in time
Will pass
All alas is gone
For a moment
Of bliss

All at once again
I reminisce
And remember this
Lost in sin
It beckons me in

Into its chambers
Of darkness
And pain
Where I am ravaged again
And thrown out
Without remorse

So has it taken its course
Within me
But I cannot remain here
This faint flicker
Of hope

Deep down I know it well
It remains
It reminds me
Of a joy I once knew

A longing I had
For you
Will such a hope
A fervency
Renew

I pray it will
That despite
All betrayal
In me
Your love will
Prevail

And somehow
It will release
From me this pain
That I may find
Joy again
In you

-Joshua Lee Foist