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Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. -- 2 Timothy 2:15 (King James Version)



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Mostly Me Poetry



Welcome to my poetry page









BOOK OF POEMS

A book of poems I'd like to write,
But I don't know,
Would it be out of spite?
Just certain people to show?
To prove myself right?
I'd like to know.



LISTEN

Listen to the little children
Listen for what they don't say.
Listen to the little children,
screaming for you to stay.
Listen to the little children,
when they cry into the night.
Listen to the little children,
when they wake up from the fright.
Listen to the little children,
to help make them feel alright.

National Center for Missing and Exploited Children



PRAISE SONG

All nations you have made
will glory to your name,
You are great and forever the same.
You alone are God,
You do marvelous things.
You have comforted and helped me.
I let my Hosanna's ring.
I march forth in your truth,
My enemies have been put to shame.
Teach me your ways O'Lord
and I'll bring glory to your name.



SATAN!

Liar, liar, liar, your soul is on fire.
For eternity you burn in hell.
God and I just think that's swell.
Never to live on, on the earth.
You never experienced Christ's rebirth.
Never asked for forgiveness of sin,
You never even asked Jesus in.
So now you're there to burn in Hell.
To go to heaven would have been swell!




A WOMAN'S LOVE

A woman feels love as a man does not.
In him a flame.
To her a whisper.
It comes to her step by step;
tenderness brings it by.
Gentleness keeps it so.
Like a dove it touches in,
to settle forever,
in her heart.



MY MASTER

My Master was so very poor,
A manger was his resting place;
So very rich my Master was
Kings came from far
To gain his grace.

My Master was so very poor,
And with the poor he broke the bread;
So very rich my Master was
That multitudes
By him were fed.

My Master was so very poor
They nailed him naked to a cross;
So very rich my Master was
He gave his all
And knew no loss.

--Harry Lee (1874-1942) To God



PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP

His eyes spoke words of love to me,
but were they real?
Mine to him.
A real hug in front of people,
afraid to hug me by myself?
Later I told him how I felt.
Each eternally married with children.
We love each other from afar.
I know he admired me. He said so.




THE LITTLE LADY WHO GOT HER WAY

Once there was a little lady,
who always needed some rest,
She always had her fun on payday,
and on Sunday she got blest.
She always had what she needed,
she always had some angles,
she always got what she pleaded,
and she always wore bangles.



LINDA

She seems to say,"Don't grieve for me,
loved ones there below,
such happiness to be with Him,
my heart is so aglow!

Of happiness, joy complete,
In perfect health am I,
those sicknesses that came to me,
now just pass me by.

No more can I be hurt today,
No more can Satan harm me.
Here with Jesus I'm secure,
Lucifer can't disarm me.

Be faithful you down there below,
united soon we'll be.
He'll come to you so very soon.
His face you too shall see!

The joy we'll feel when round the Throne,
all pain and sorrow past.
In His Presence forever here,
together and safe at last."




ANOTHER POEM

I want to write another poem,
but I feel like letting my poem dance.
It may happen to be crazy,
but I sometimes take a chance.



THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM

The torture of the Inquisition,
The thought I would soon go,
The scamper of the lousy rats,
that would but start unslow.

In this small prison of cement of brick,
of what did rats have to eat?
Just the thought made me sick,
and the scurry of their feet.

With a swing, not unlike an axe,
The pendulum came down,
The pendulum came down upon,
and almost hit me near the ground.

A deep, bright light engaged my eye upon.
In a pit a fire was burning,
Into the fire I almost went,
It gave me an urgent yearning.

It was General Lasalle I was rescued by,
So I now live to tell this lie.



FOR GOD

Put your money where your heart is,
let not your love depart.
Put your money where your heart is.
Give with all your heart.

Let not your heart be troubled,
through God let it be free.
Put your money where your heart is,
and bow down on bended knee.

Thank God for all you have.
It is He who multiplies.
It is good to give to the storehouse,
to Him who satisfies.



A WELL-KNOWN SON

A lone child was born,
in a stable on Christmas morn.
Three prudent men and the shepherds came.
A Babe whom only king herod could scorn.
Those people extended His fame.
When the supremacy heard this he felt very forlorn.
He wanted them to spread his name.
The kings men searched until well-worn.
Searching for Christs radiant face
from the king his men were torn.
For searching for Christ they had kept their pace.
Herod had all killed off under age three,(not correct but it rhymes)
missing Jesus in his hate for He.



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Copywrited 1998
by
Carol Ann Houseworth
E-mail me at StarDesignLady@yahoo.com for more information
Last updated Aug. 13, 2007
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