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

ALL THIS STUFF

Perhaps I am overbearing with

My poetry and stuff,

But I have got to keep it flowing

Until the Master says “Enough!”

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This is His will for me, you know.

It is something I must do!

A simple gift from Him to me

I must pass on to you!

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“Neglect not your gift…” He said.

These words to Timothy (1)

Neglect it not!  Despise it not,

And this applies to me.

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What is more, I am to stir it up!

Encourage it and then (2)

I just cannot let it lay around

Must share it with my friend! (3)

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“What is in all this for you?” you ask.

“You will soon be dead and gone.” (4)

Exactly!  Now you know my task

If Jesus tarries long!

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(1) I Timothy 4:14

(2) II Timothy 1:6

(3) Friends, relatives, enemies…

(4) In heaven then my kids, grandkids and great grands

just may get a blessing (or laugh) out of my gift.

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Sam Cox, grandpa 05.19.03

NOT FOR SALE

My poetry is love, love is not for sale.

I give it away.

Whether accepted or not I still trust it

As a gift to say

What I want!  When I pray I do not choose words

To make prayer sound good,

(If I do at times it is not acceptable)

As sincere prayer should

Be a happy, angry, or embittered cry

A cry from the heart.

A cry that makes mute the sounds of nature’s song

Inviting joy to depart!

So, the, words of my song, though brash, brazen,

Or crude will have to do.

Accept or reject or shrug it off, it is done!

Response?  Up to you!

I care not.  Yes, I do!  Your response to

One so insecure

Is important!  I so dislike rejection!

I cannot long endure

The slight of scorn, the mocking, though subdued,

Hurting just a bit

Can never change my mind.  For this is my gift of

Love, this is my gift!

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Sam Cox 05.13.03

ALL THIS STUFF

Perhaps I am overbearing with

My poetry and stuff,

But I have got to keep it flowing

Until The Master says, “Enough.”

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This is His will for me, you know.

It is something I must do

A simple gift from Him to me.

I must pass on to you!

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“Neglect not your gift,” He said,

These words to Timothy.

Neglect it not!  Despise it not!

And this applies to me!

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What’s more I am to stir it up!

Encourage it and then

I just cannot let it lay around

Must share it with my friend!

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“What is in all this for you?” you ask,

You will soon be dead and gone!”

Exactly!  Now you know my task,

If Jesus tarries long…

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Sam Cox 09.03

GOD HAS A PURPOSE FOR ALL

God who created us for joy

Unspeakable, defenseless.

The Adam and Eve did something wrong

Sin from then on, endless!

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Eternity truly in His plan

Loves all that He made!

Some of it we cannot understand

But do not know how we would trade.

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Insect world and germology

Not disannulled by me

I cannot understand all He did

Microbes or yet the flea.

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But all, everything has purpose

True!  Fundamentally!

God over all did everything!

All purposefully!

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No mistakes in anything

The fish breathing in water,

Tadpoles turn into something else.

Did Eve have a daughter?

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Snakes have a purpose, truly do!

Some fish in rivers and seas

Devour others and we eat,

Some good for you and me!

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Many who doubt eternal life,

Suppose we die like dogs!

So glad God had a purpose for all,

Including maybe frogs.

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Frog legs delicious many folk consider

And remember God does know all!

For everything there is a purpose!

We die but live on God’s call!

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Call of the wild is for many understood

And Cain killed his brother, too!

Wonder what became of that killer,

I have nothing better to do!

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Now that I am way too old to work

Just sit and write poetry!

Used to sell some now just to give

To anyone for free.

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And it is a pleasure!  God’s gift to me!

No need for money anymore,

As we all know it grows on trees

And that is what they are budding for!

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Gifts from God, way out of reason!

Air we breathe included!

Sin to shine every season,

Nothing is excluded!

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Cannot imagine nor try anymore,

The joy unspeakable true!

Fly with angels visiting stars!

Just everything left to do!

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No end!  Eternity!

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The Sam 11.14

THAT WIND THAT BLOWS

Outlandish grammar, improper spelling

Cannot a writer make.

Yet I presume to compose poetry

I guess it is called give or take!

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Give an inch and take a mile

It matters not, this I do.

Whether it is right or whether it is wrong

Whatever I say, it is true!

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In my own eyes, take it or leave it,

Debate it if you desire.

If it is worth debating give it a go,

But I am sure you will soon tire!

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Of doing nothing, nothing worthwhile

Except to prove that I am right!

In my assertion that what I am saying

May not seem too bright!

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You be the judge, make your decision,

“To be or not to be.”

It either is, or if not, it is not

Now that is quite plain to see!

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But there are things cannot see at all,

The wind, that cooling breeze!

At times it comes up pretty strong,

A whistling through the trees!

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Soon strong enough the tree is gone!

Uprooted, just splinters left!

Houses flattened, torn to pieces,

Families left bereft!

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God works in mysterious ways

Make no mistakes, He is there!

Cannot see Him or that wind that blows

Deliberate, compare!

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S H Cox 10.5.05

HEAVEN III

To make a poem less than my best

Would be, like, robbing God.

This gift He gave me not my own

To you, I can afford.

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The imperfections I cannot blame

On Him.  They are my own!

Too much of self gets in the way,

They are my mistakes alone.

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As a minister, my smiles were scarce,

As if I could not show joy,

My poetry now is so much so

But words are hard to employ.

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The joy that I feel deep inside

That incites these words I pen,

As though He were my very own

A love hard to comprehend!

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Where does this love for Him come from?

I think of Him, tears fall!

Remembering a time I stood far off,

With a sort of fear, that is all!

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So what is it now?  There was a change,

Of course, saved log ago,

But I did not know Him as I do now!

We do not stay small we grow!

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Growth it is!  He is my personal friend!

When dying, He died for me!

Cannot wait to kneel at His feet above

Smile on His face I will see!

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As a pastor, I preached for many years.

These are my sermons now,

To let these thoughts die in my heart

No way!  Cannot allow!

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The love that I feel so hard to express,

Tears of joy you cannot see!

When I think of the true reality there

Yes!  Joy enough there for me!

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Yes, I will meet you I the morning over there.

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Sam Cox 5.31.05