HAVE SOME JOY!

One out of ten may enjoy poetry,

Maybe even less!

But you may know why,  why that would be

What I do the best!

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Ever since my very first poem,

Accepted I have had the bug!

Even King David’s poetry, Psalms,

Not stuffed under the rug!

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Sold billions of copies, in a Book,

Bible, you should know

Will sell even more until Jesus comes

Helps Christians to grow!

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Millions have memorized Psalm 23

“My Shepherd…” God is near!

He leads, He feeds!  And satisfies!

What then have I to fear?

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Millions take comfort, it is written,

“I will fear no evil!”

Your rod and staff comfort bring

Need not fear the devil!

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Sure he tempts but he cannot force!

Christ’s table satisfies!

Better than Satan has to offer!

With his tempting lies!

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What can be better than Heaven above?

Devil may promise joy,

Sure, the bilious kind ever ending with

Hangover to annoy!

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And in the end, what promise have I?

Of satisfaction?  Hell!

Heaven alone, everlasting joy!

What else can ring my bell?

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Or keep the bells of Heaven ringing!

It is so hard to conceive

Of a God who longs to have us

Home!  Cannot wait to receive!

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Of course, the place He has prepared for us

So impossible to fathom

When God, like, passes a plate way beyond

Anything known,says, “have some”!

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the Sam 01.17.12

HEAVEN WAITS

Did the Dalai Lama know?  Was

It, like, prophesy?

Or maybe just, like, guesswork.

Just had to wait and see!

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Did not happen!  I am still living,

Sure, that path was slippery!

Did not fall into the river,

Death then not my destiny.

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Not a crocodile or panther,

Sure, God was there to aid!

Always able to deliver,

Know that He can save!

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Awakened then!  Sure, relieved that,

Then in that river, what portend?

I reached out for a lilly pad

Father’s oar came down (up) to end.

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Near disastrous charade!

Sure, crocodilian nose!

He splashed away, to end it,

I shivered to my toes!

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Later on a “crock” got under,

Our boat and carried us

Sideways near tipped over.

Uncle Fred did what he must!

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Had shotgun fully loaded close

To the water.  Shotgun roared!

Boat released, then, from father,

“We return now.  Cannot afford–

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“To lose a passenger or four,

River’s full or crocodiles,

We will not tell mother, at the tent!”

Cannot afford to miss her smile.

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Father tempted fate quite often!

Then this village, preached Christ there,

With the small pox, was infested!  Dad

Caught the dread fever.  Not rare!

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Died in the big tent, 2 weeks later,

Campfire we heard singing.

Natives exclaimed:  “Sahib, is well?”

No!  Bells of heaven ringing!

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the Sam