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Showing posts from July, 2023

A Message Concerning Edom (Isaiah 21)

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 A voice calls to me from the Seir mountains in Edom. "Night watchman! How long till daybreak? How long will the night last?" The night watchmans calls back, "Morning's coming, But for now it's still night. If you ask me again, I'll give the same answer." Eugene H. Peterson The World I Live In

Poem

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And if it snowed and snow covered the drive he took a spade and tossed it to one side. And always tucked his daughter up at night And slippered her the one time that she lied. And every week he tipped up half his wage. And what he didn't spend each week he saved. And praised his wife for every meal she made. And once, for laughing, punched her in the face. And for his mum he hired a private nurse. And every Sunday taxied her to church. And he blubbed when she went from bad to worse. And twice he lifted ten quid from her purse. Here's how they rated him when they looked back: sometimes he did this, sometimes he did that. Simon Armitage Turn Up The Volume

Life Of Many Springs

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 As on a tree of moments Inhaled, blossomy We, back through time, in gazing Sigh what fled, blowy. There it is, in a nutshell Our life; its highlights. Yet as such, of many springs Scent future delights! james watkin Trust God

Fatherhood

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  How's the little chap to know Just the proper roads to go If you never travel with him While he's little, hand in hand? How's he ever going to learn Just what corners not to turn If you never try to tell him So that he can understand ? Who, think you, will train him rightly, Who will watch him daily, nightly, Who will take the time to show him Just the things he ought to do? Will some stranger or a neighbor Take upon himself the labor Which the Lord above intended As a duty, just for you? Is it safe to trust another, Even though he be your brother. To the molding of his future? Can you watch him come and go, Can you go on money-making, Without thought or trouble taking To discover if he's learning Just the things you'd have him know? There's no fortune worth his splendor Or his youthful days and tender. There's no goal so bright with glory Which is worth his happiness; He's your hope of joy tomorrow, As you'll find out to your sorrow If you let him

Turn Up The Volume

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It's so easy to drown in your sorrows Good old music is one of a kind, It will pick you up at your lowest, Leaving your troubles behind. When life gets you down play a good tune, Forget all your sorrows and woes, Just turn up the volume as loud as can be, Tapping your fingers and toes. Music is full of fond memories, Taking you back to good days, Music is, the medicine of life That is there in its own special way. Jayne Louise Davies Here I am to Worship

The White Mans Burden

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  Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips: maybe it was the voice of the rain crying, a cracked bell, or a torn heart. Something from far off it seemed deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth, a shout muffled by huge autumns, by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves. Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance climbed up through my conscious mind as if suddenly the roots I had left behind cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood--- and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent Pablo Neruda Trust God

Side Show

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 Very sturdy rogues. Several have exploited your worlds. With no needs, and in no hurry to make use of their brilliant faculties and their knowledge of your conveniences. What ripe men! Eyes vacant like the summer night, red and black, tricolored, steel studded with gold stars; faces distorted, leaden, blanched, ablaze; burlesque hoarsenesses! The cruel strut of flashy finery! Some are young,-- how would they look on Cherubim?-- endowed with terrifying voices and some dangerous resources. They are sent buggering in the town, tricked out with nauseating _luxury._ O the most violent Paradise of the furious grimace! Not to be compared with your Fakirs and other theatrical buffooneries. In improvised costumes like something out of a bad dream, they enact heroic romances of brigands and of demigods, more inspiriting than history or religions have ever been. Chinese, Hottentots, gypsies, simpletons, hyenas, Molochs, old dementias, sinister demons, they combine popular maternal turns with bes

Lady of Knock

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  There were people of all ages gathered 'round the gable wall poor and humble men and women, little children that you called we are gathered here before you, and our hearts are just the same filled with joy at such a vision, as we praise Your Name Golden Rose, Queen of Ireland, all my cares and troubles cease as we kneel with love before you, Lady of Knock, my Queen of Peace Though your message was unspoken, still the truth in silence lies as we gaze upon your vision, and the truth I try to find here I stand with John the teacher, and with Joseph at your side and I see the Lamb of God, on the Altar glorified Golden Rose, Queen of Ireland, all my cares and troubles cease as we kneel with love before you, Lady of Knock, my Queen of Peace And the Lamb will conquer and the woman clothed in the sun will shine Her light on everyone and the lamb will conquer and the woman clothed in the sun, will shine Her light on everyone Dana Christians

The Eolian Harp

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  (Composed at Clevedon, Somersetshire) My pensive Sara! thy soft cheek reclined Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle, (Meet emblems they of Innocence and Love!) And watch the clouds, that late were rich with light, Slow saddening round, and mark the star of eve Serenely brilliant (such should Wisdom be) Shine opposite! How exquisite the scents Snatch'd from yon bean-field! and the world so hushed! The stilly murmur of the distant Sea Tells us of silence. And that simplest Lute, Placed length-ways in the clasping casement, hark! How by the desultory breeze caress'd, Like some coy maid half yielding to her lover, It pours such sweet upbraiding, as must needs Tempt to repeat the wrong! And now, its strings Boldlier swept, the long sequacious notes Over delicious surges sink and rise, Such a soft floating witchery of sound As twilight Elfins make, when they at eve Vo