Poets on board?

Hands that make a quilt

Hands that make a quilt

Hands that make a quilt are godly hands
because they are diligent
God says in His word
that the hand of the diligent maketh rich,
shall bear rule, and are satisfied. 1
The substance of diligent hands are precious.2

Hands that make a quilt
are godly hands because they are faithful.
God so lovingly tells us that,
His eyes are over the faithful of the land, 3
and He preserves them,4
and they shall abound with blessings.5

Hands that make a quilt
are godly hands because they are patient.
God’s word warns us that
a patient hand is better than a proud hand.6
A patient hand that continues doing well,seeks eternal life.7
A patient hand is steadfast until the coming of the Lord.8

Hands that make a quilt
are godly hands because they show the love of God.
God’s word tells us that
love is of God, and all who loves knows Him.9
Just as the sacrifice of time, strength and thought
made up the love that goes into a quilt,
God also sacrificed His Son,
that made up the love that goes into eternal life.10
__________________________________________________ _____

1 Proverbs 10:4, 12:24, 13:4
2 Proverbs 12:27
3 Proverbs 31:23
4 Proverbs 101:6
5 Proverbs 28:10
6 Ecclesiastes 7:8
7 Romans 2:7
8 James 5:7,8
9 1 John 4:7
10 Romans 5:8

Pastor Mark Mitchell Copyright 2002

 

What happened to our photo hobby?
Here it is missing from the lobby.

 

In Yellowstone Park, where millions go yearly,
The attractions are many and vast.
The geysers and bears are looked on so dearly
That others are too quickly passed.

The canyons and cliffs and rivers and falls
Are crowded with sightseers, too.
But in a lesser known basin with no canyon walls
Lies a vista of most calming blue.

Just west of Old Faithful along Firehole River,
It’s seething, yet looks very cool.
Its most pleasant hue to your senses deliver—
The most regal Sapphire Pool.

To stand by its side and look over its glow
Is a treasure its name so implies.
Just strolling and gazing, its beauty will grow,
And your love of the color will rise.

By its calming effect you can hardly believe
That the water could cook your next meal.
Such gentle deception, we like to believe,
Is Nature’s reminder and seal.

So if you vacation within this great nation
Remember the lesser known sites.
Even short occupation of such a sensation
Is a jewel among memory’s delights.

 

Thank you very much. The story of how I happened to have written that might not be found interesting, but here it is. 4 years ago last January, I was still on crutches from hip revision surgery, and I had fallen and broken my wrist, and was going to have surgery on that, too; at the time, it was in a hard splint. Thinking I hadn't had the best fortune lately, it just dawned on me one Thursday evening that our county poetry contest may be accepting entries in January. I had entered 10 times before, winning 7 awards, but not first place, and I had not submitted an entry in at least 3 years; thus, I had not thought much about it in all that time. I looked up our poetry society online and found the deadline for entering was the next Saturday. Even though I was quite sure that meant the postmark deadline, I still thought it could mean they had to have received it by Saturday. I was in my office then, but it was one of those swing shifts in which nothing was happening, so I decided that I was going to write a poem within the hour and a half that I had and mail it that night. A few minutes later I was on the phone with my girlfriend and told her what I was going to do. She, to whom I had written poetry before, said she was sure I could do it.

Then the subject just seemed to come to me; that in my trips to Yellowstone, I liked the Sapphire Pool in Biscuit Basin, although it wasn't photographed or talked about as much as the geysers, the river falls, the bears, buffalo, and other attractions. I had had a cup made with my favorite photo thereof, so that would be my subject. I used the style that had become my most common, and it was really one of the easiest poems I'd ever written. I called my girlfriend back and read it to her, and I don't recall her exact words, but she liked it. Then our printer would not work, so I knew I was going to have to save it to my personal email and print it when I got home, which I did; 2 copies, one with my name and contact information, and one without-- all typing done one-handedly, then hobbling on crutches back to my car to drive to the post office drop box. It would be weeks before I knew whether I had won an award. But the first week in March the letter came, inviting me to read it at the awards presentation (the letter did not say what place or honorable mention). I had read my winning poem at the presentation once before, and knew it was mainly for kids in school, so I didn't care to do that. Then the same day I had jury duty, and was dismissed quickly (whether that was because of crutches and arm in cast, I don't know), a UPS package was left at my door, and it was the 1st Place certificate with a leather notebook, miniature writing stand, stationery, and 2 pens.

So all in all, amid some dark, difficult days, I just had an inspiration about something I seem have a talent for, and my broken body would not prevent me from carrying it out if I refused to let it. A few weeks after all contest winners were announced, I got an email from Frisco Style, a magazine of local interest, with interview questions. I didn't know if what I wrote would really be used in the article about local poets, or even if there was a trick involved and my quotes may be deliberately taken out of context. But it was completely on the level, and included much of the story that I just told here.

 

Shoo fly, you're bothering me,
Go aggravate someone else.
I'm a busy man, busy as a bee,
Go talk to that spider on the shelf.

Shoo fly, you're bothering me,
I'm trying to eat my meal in peace.
I'm a hungry man, and I reiterate hungry,
I've got a fly swat, you're life will soon cease.

Shoo fly, you're bothering me,
I'm trying to brush my teeth.
I want my bed, all are asleep in my family,
My bed is calling, my covers I'll soon be underneath.

Shoo fly, you're bothering me,
As I was snoring, you landed on my nose.
My wife just saw you, and now you're really in trouble,
I just got smacked with her panty hose.

Shoo fly, you're bothering me,
Another morn, and you're still there.
I worked, ate, and slept,
You seem to be everywhere.

Shoo fly, you're bothering me,
But you'll bother me no more.
I have you in my sights,
Splat!! I just got you with an apple core.

Shoo fly, you're bothering me,
But it twas just yesterday.
He's gone, no more around,
But I miss him, I must say.

Written by Willis Fletcher, Jr.

5-21-2014

 

Riding For The Brand

In the world today filled with chaos and disaray
We need to be riding for the brand and learning to pray.
In the old west everyone knew the importance of a brand.
It was the mark a rancher used to burn on his stock out on the open land.

The term "Riding For The Brand' was an expression of loyalty to a man's employer.
It was a compliment of the highest order.
Christians should be riding for the two-one-two brand
In order to stand tall across the land.

The Two-One-Two brand is very direct and to the point.
It signifies two nailed scared hands, one spear in His side, and two more nail scars in his feet.
And this was done so that you and me He could anoint.

Riding For The Brand is of the highest calling.
For it signifies the name of the Lord who's love is unfalling.
When Christians begin to understand the privilage and responsibility of wearing the Lord's brand.
They will give it nothing less than their best and spread it across the land.

So the next time you face a situation that tempts you to compromise. Take a stand for the brand and fight Satan and all his lies.
It's not easy and it's not alway fun.
But Riding For The Brand is what we owe God's only Son.



Pastor Mark A. Mitchell
Copyright 1994

 

Birdy, Birdy in the sky...
Why'd you do that in my eye?
-author unknown.

 

I love literature, but I am still not an expert in poetry. I am more interested in writing short stories and novels. Probably once I get the chance to write a poem, I would share it here.

 

I love y'alls poetry. Occasionally I'll write a poem, but I'm not any good. I'm more into photography.

 

Each of us must do our Job

How could a God who is gracious and just,
Who loves us all as His own,
And breathed blèssed life into our earthly dust,
Allow us to suffer alone?

He could have omitted this worldly phase,
And allowed us to hear no voice
To mislead us here in our numbered days--
But instead He granted us choice.

This choice He gave us is very clear--
We cannot undo our sin,
But He will approach us and come very near;
If we let Him, then He'll live within.

He created this world with knowledge complete
Of all that would ever transpire,
Which includes his Opponent, which He will defeat--
Our compliance is what He'll require.

And because this world was so soon corrupted,
And stricken with so many flaws,
Our wish for perfection is always disrupted,
And something then builds from our cause.

Our cause in HIs plan might indeed be to suffer,
But within His will we must align.
Our trust and our patience are a true blessed buffer
Which all consequences refine.

God gave an example for HIs people to follow--
HIs people all over the globe--
It's there in His Word, which returns never hollow,
In the book of the suffering Job.

A good and just man, Job had never done ought
To deserve the disasters he faced.
He was given bad counsel for the answers he sought,
And he knew his friends' words were displaced.

So to God, then HImself, Job cried out and demanded
The reason for all of his pains.
God gave him no answer, but instead He commanded
That Job just get over his strains.

And we, just like Job, cannot answer God
And explain nature's myst'ries and wonders.
We just leave that to Him as we travel this sod,
And the sky above lightens and thunders.

For all will be finished and all be fulfilled
When the time of completion is done.
But for now, both in peace and in conflict we build
On the Kingdom redeemed by God's Son,

Who became one of us and knew suffering so great--
And He is the reason we must
Be willing to suffer, as we patiently wait
For His Kingdom... in Him is our trust.

 

There is some great poetry on here. I do on occasion write poetry to help me through some difficult times. I have never really shared them with anybody as I am not that confident in my writing skills.

 

I think I failed to 'publish' my Christmas poem when the season was here.

HAS CHRISTMAS BEN BLOCKED

At the Fellowship Church they liked Christmas a lot--
But Ben Block, treasurer and deacon, did not.
He hated the season, the whole Christmas layout;
For expense of festivities, he’d issue no payout.
For his motives, of which some were known and some hidden,
Many desired from his posts he be ridden.
But he was the source, within this small town,
Of what keeps the church living, without going down:
The banker he was, and on many an occasion
He saved this small church from a forced liquidation.
In return he expected to be given charge
Of finances, no matter how small or how large.
So, too many members on him felt dependent,
And stood by and let him be "superintendent."
However, unknown was his true hidden reason
For despising this day and its whole merry season.
It must have had something to do with his past;
Regardless, his stand was considered aghast.
So now, with the vigil of Christmas approaching,
The church was preparing, but Ben was encroaching.
Persuasion was useless by the full board of deacons;
No parties, no dramas, no lights lit as beacons--
Unless for the next time the debt be too grating
That Ben pledge no surety to uplift credit's rating.

So this year the members all turned to Bernice,
A grand pious lady who'd often made peace.
Clever and gracious, she had quite an art
Of beating swords into plowshares, of softening a heart.
She said, "Go ahead with your party and play—
String up the lights; make the night like the day!.”
So the members there present took Bernice at her word.
From the bank Ben was watching, and his temper was stirred.
In minutes the church door was swung open wide,
And in stepped the banker; his expression was snide.
He said, “Don’t you know the church makes no provision
For this type of thing, and you’ll cause much division?”
The members replied, “Well, it’s out of your hands—
It’s our treat; on you we will make no demands.”
“Is that so?” said Ben. “Well, you need to recall
That you must have approval to use the church hall—
Approval from ME, who, as chairman, deny
Your right to this nonsense; so leave now—goodbye!”
The people stood ‘round and their shoulders they shrugged;
A few were dejected, and each other they hugged.
They started to leave till Bernice raised her hand,
For this was the moment she’d carefully planned.
Bernice stepped toward Ben, looked him straight in the eye,
And said, “Brother Ben, won’t you please tell us why?”
“Because Christmas,” Ben said, “to me is just sadness;
I can’t stand my grief in the midst of your gladness.
Years ago it was happy, but now I’m undone,
For on that date I lost both my wife and my son.
We were late in our travels one cold Christmas Eve
When a car on the highway before us did weave.
I threw on the brakes and got into a slide,
But I could not protect the right passenger’s side.
My loved ones were bleeding—I pled them hang on—
But before Christmas morning their heartbeats were gone.
From that Christmas onward, it’s a day, not of light,
But a time of remorse—I feel God did me spite.”
Bernice lowered her head and she took Ben’s right hand,
And she said, “Ben, please know that I do understand--
That Christmas for many, including myself,
Brings back tragic memories from sorrow’s wide shelf.
But I learned within me, through prayer long ago,
That the reason Christ came was for us to bestow
On him all our burdens and all of our cares,
And experience the comfort that He gladly shares.
So when grief was so heavy and my soul was forlorn
I let my heart be a manger in which Christ could be born."

The tears that welled up in Ben’s sad, hallow eyes
He could barely hold back as his spirit did rise.
He said, “Thank you, Bernice, you are such a wise friend
That I think the blame I’ve misplaced now shall end.
My wife and my son in His arms now rejoice;
Only praise and thanksgiving shall proceed from my voice.”

So if Christmas brings back to the throes of your mind
Events in your life which were very unkind,
Turn your eyes back to Him on this next Christmas morn,
And let your heart be a manger in which Christ can be born.

 

Luke 3:11

He that hath two, now let him give
to him whose hands are empty.
And likewise meat, let it be given
by those in this land of plenty.

"Look, Honey, Dear, do you see here
the sale this store doth have?
Why we could get a VCR
thus giving our nerves more salve.

"They're frazzled and frayed
with all the stops, here, on our list to do;
The Good Will stop, that must be made--
we have no room for new.

"Christmas hath past, leaving toys at last
for little ones bored with old.
And those I must box for toys-for-tots
when 'gain the season cold.

"Perhaps, tonight, we should skip the fright
of untold calories.
For I must start a diet plan,
the world's been good to me.

"That diet center is another stop,
here on our list of "Do's"
And on the way, We'll stop by K's,
they've got a sale on shoes."

O, Blessed Spirit of simplicity
which serves our brother's needs;
Which frees us from our worldly wants
and sinful, selfish greed.

Forgive me, LORD, for this my pain
and that of my brethren, too.
Unite us in love to Thee above,
as we seek Thy will to do.

 

A TOUR OF ENCHANTMENT

I'd seen the Grand Canyon from its north and south rims
On my southwestern journeys before.
As I went there again I had one of those whims
About how to experience it more.

I made this decision on limited time,
So the price didn't seem very high
To engage a twin Cessna and to upwardly climb,
For the canyon to see from the sky.

I then met the pilot who would fly this grand tour,
As we walked 'cross the field to the plane,
Who would show this new vantage of the canyon's allure,
With the sky up above our domain.

The tower gave clearance for Rocky Fourteen
To move into position and roll.
We started to climb o'er the forest of green,
And we leveled with perfect control.

Then as we crossed over that steep southern rim,
A rising hot updraft we felt.
There below was the canyon, so proper and prim--
What a beautiful hand we'd been dealt!

A triangular pattern of forty-plus miles
Presented a wonderful show
Of all sizes and colors and contours and styles
Of inspiring formations below.

The tour was delightful, beginning to end,
And so filled with enchantment between.
Such a marvelous view did the sapphire sky lend
By the wide wings of Rocky Fourteen.