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By God’s Fireplace



By:

Mike Sawyer




Copyright © 2017 by Mike Sawyer


All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal. Smashwords editions. Have questions, reach Mike by writing at 1525 Mckaig ave apt 4, Troy, Ohio 45373. Attn: Mike



Other Books by Mike


Before Darkness

Soul War








Chapter 1: Down on 3rd Avenue


Shattered day with love gone,

torn man down on his luck.

Denied life and liberty,

a sign by his feet.

Faded memories of a hand so strong,

simple needs torn from him like a strong ocean gust.

Down on 3rd avenue,

Is anyone there anymore?


Time, not a friend to the homeless,

food a luxury among the poor folks of the rich land.

Standing by trash,

underneath the light of the city law.

Chased away by coins and sneers,

to die alone in a field of forgotten Burger King wrappers.

Rain falls to cleanse the streets of the sleeping and drunks,

torn coat among the fashion breaks.

Thrown aside like a faded marriage.

Is anyone out there anymore?


A few coins pause in midair,

to bring life to the man.

A warm sandwich from an angel with a hidden face,

but her tears fall.

He feels her sorrow,

he knows her pain.

He smiles gently without alcohol on his breath,

a torn look of despair brighten by a moment.

A warming cup of coffee handed down,

a prayer with a man down the street.

Is anyone watching what God is doing here?

Alone no more on 3rd avenue.





Chapter 2: By God’s Fireplace


Souls walk the earth,

rain falls like paint on a newly built wall.

Souls die on earth,

to heaven or to hell they go.

In the life span of a butterfly.

Do we walk alone?

Do we know anything at all?


Silent seconds at birth,

silent moments at death.

Dreamy visions swirl around us,

a tear drop to the angels.

Do we stand alone?

Does it matter if we were stoned?


Moderate attendance in a sheltered building,

whispers of amen, echo forever.

Torn spirits filled with holes,

demons feasting upon our souls.

Can we fight them alone?

Oh where is the fireplace that I long for?


A gentle whisper in our hearts,

to come home and sit by the fire.

A gracious father that has been denied by evil.

Yet, evil trembles under its own despair.

A loving hand tends the embers,

to stroke up life in our wooden bodies.

Did the fire die out?

Where oh Lord are you?


The fire never dies,

the life that never ends.

One choice,

will you sit by God’s fireplace?



Chapter 3: Under the Bridge


Cold winter flows like a river,

underneath the frozen twilight do we sleep.

Do we dare light a fire?

Cradled by concrete compassion,

driven down into madness of night.

Stolen headlights flash cheaply,

a neon Las Vegas dumpster to haunt.

Under the bridge we live.


Sorrow lacks comfort,

trash canned angels caress the emptiness,

food is denied to the hungry.

Wash room laundry in gas stations,

showers in the park.

Standing firm in hope,

we are not lost.


Day comes and it goes,

like a withered ghost.

It weeps for the slain,

bound by chains of social lies.

We starve for the greater good,

life is flows through our blood.

Tossed aside like a Starbucks dress code,

watching the world churn itself out.

Caught up in lies and denied.

to the bridge we will go,

to be free from a world gone mad.




Chapter 4: A Loving Hand from Heaven


Turning away from the lights,

callused fingertips dip in the blood.

Forgiveness given at the altar,

cold eyes show no remorse.

They walk by the violence around them,

disobedience of youth in the era of love.

Walking away with no shame.

Wait for the sound,

wait for the moment.


Night falls around the shelter less,

warm rain falls and destroys cardboard homes.

Stolen identities for fraud use,

and the world says yes.

Tormented sidewalks with fresh tears,

all is waiting for something better.

Empty gold calves,

preached at the alters of materialism.

Yet, a loving hand waits in heaven.


A loving hand from heaven waits,

patient as a doctor for a birth.

Silent as death’s smile.

Washed in His sons’ sacrifice,

a hand of love and freedom.

the poor shelter themselves under His glory,

the wicked stand in awe.

Shame, no

disgrace, no.



Love coming down from heaven,

waiting to touch one soul.

A whisper of angels stand by His command,

truth is a trumpet they hold.

Shadows of evil die forever more.

Do the childless feel the pain?

Can the rich taste a sweet fruit?


Street corners filled with pan handlers,

businesses burn to the ground.

Reasons and lies fill the air,

take His hand to fly away.

Dig down and find Him.

He is always there,

never afraid to welcome someone home.





Chapter 5: The Black Wedding (Angel’s Sing Glory)


Warm are the days of God,

winter passed away like last year.

A wedding takes place under His blessing,

purple and black cross one another.

Angels weep and sing glory to the father,

He is nervous like a fawn standing for the first time.

She vomits from fear,

angels swarm like a Seal team to comfort her.

The black wedding takes place under the sun.


Two souls cross the threshold,

uniting under God’s love.

Together they are strong,

angles sing glory to the father.

Purple wedding dress,

black tuxedo for him.

Time comes to a halt.

Families cease the bitter war,

an end to an end and a beginning.


Moments come and go,

flashes of fake light come.

Smiles transfixed as hours fly,


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