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PERHAPS

I may go
looking
perhaps
for an infant
a child
a former life
and energy
a hope
a bubble in a
universe of time
looking perhaps
for you
and you
will not be there.
I may not
after all
go back.

Kate
I MUST GO SHOPING

My kindness shelf is almost bare,
I'm getting low on love,
Completely out of thankfulness...
Must send for more, above.

I should exchange some jealousy,
I didn't order that!
I need a box of tolerance
For mine tastes rather flat!

Oh, yes, I must put on my list
The fragrance of God's peace.
I need a big supply of joy
Before the price increase!

I noticed patience is on sale...
I need so much today.
It looks becoming any time
And mine is tell-tale gray.

Humilty is terribly dear...
I can't afford it now.
But oh, my stock is almost gone,
I'll pay for it somehow!

My sense of humor is a mess
Should be repaired today.
My flask of goodness has been lost
Somewhere along the way.

Extravagant my shoping list?
I wonder how I'll pay.
I can't afford to skimp or save...
So I must shop - TODAY!

Marjorie Cooney
REFLECTIONS
Reflections, reflections,
what do they mean?
A mirror of God's love
in life to be seen.
God is my refuge,
my strength, and power
to be drawn upon in
the need of the hour.
Jesus, the example in life
was sent to be.
Living in His foot-steps
is my reality.
When no-one else cares
Jesus is our dearest friend,
our constant companion,
He remains 'till the end.
The indwelling, the infilling,
the guidance to heed.
Yes, reflections are a mirror
of God's continuing love,
a promise of a bright future
in heaven above.
Jean Monger

WHO LIVES ALONE

"She lives alone" I heard him say,
who sadly cast a glance my way,
"it must be hard, when day is done,
to set the table just for one.
What does she do when twilight falls,
all alone within those walls?
It is a shame she's missing out,
on what the world is all about".

I paused a moment in surprise,
then turned and gazed into his eyes,
and felt a pang of sympathy,
for those who LOOK but do not SEE.
Within each soul God puts a spark
of purest hope that lights the dark,
and in each life however small,
the faith to muddle through it all.

Within each heart He does abide,
however forms and features hide
the patient strength His hands bestow,
upon us mortals here below.
Who lives alone should never be
the object of one's sympathy,
for moments worth their weight in gold,
are often ours to have and hold.

To reach the door and turn the key,
and know He's waiting there for me,
with time for thought and time for prayer,
how light the burdens that I bear.
And though I set a place for one,
He's with me 'til the meal is done,
and evermore and constantly,
I have the Lord for company.

Grace E. Easley
IT MATTERS NOT

It matters not the path on earth
my feet are made to trod;
it only matters how I live:
obedient to God.

It matters not how rough the way,
if God is there to bless,
for only He can bring sweet peace
through tears or happiness.

It matters not my will I do,
but only His be done;
for He is Master of my life
and I the serving one.

It matters not the global spot
which God may put me in;
it only matters that each day
I walk and talk with Him.

Maxine Clark
CAN'T BE THERE

When I can't be there
to say I love you
or put my arms around you
nor show you the light
of a caring smile -
all I can do is walk a Godly mile.

When I can't share
your every hurts and pain
nor be there to share your dreams -
one of the Godly miles
I walk each day
I give to you
in love and prayer.

May you always know I care
when I can't be there
to say ...

Trish Reed
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POETRY VARIETY
MICHAEL ALLEN PELTON
February 15, 1955 - December 7, 1986

HE WAS A FRIEND

He made his friends by being one,
And on his friendship men relied;
In every deed that need done
He made the Golden Rule his guide.
His friendly presence brought a cheer
That made the day seem wondrous fair;
His daily living so sincere
Made others love him everywhere;
He was a friend.
He was a friend.

No task too great for him to do,
And in the doing was a smile
That aided as he carried through
The deeds that were so well worth while.
The brightness of his day is gone,
We see the setting of the sun;
If only we could carry on
And live a life like he has done!
He was a friend.

Just yonder on the star kissed shore
He carries on in nobler way;
Though we can see his face no more,
Thanks for his friendship for a day.
If on his tomb we could indite
The epitaph we have in mind,
One phrase is all that we would write -
The truest words that we could find -
He was a friend.

Author Unknown
Sent in by Michelle Pelton...Michael's sister
BY FAITH

Reach out for my nailed-scared hands
and by faith believe in Me.
I will show you that you can trust My agape love.
For I came from My God the Father
who lives up in the heavens high above.

Receive My nail-scared hands and die to me,
for I shed for you My red crimson blood.
I was pierced and whipped and broken in My body,
so that you may live in My undying love.

Accept My nail-scared hands and live with Me,
enjoying all the golden splendor,
awesome majesty of His glory
of My Father's kingdom in Heaven,
of His everlasting love.

Thanksgiving, November 1995
Written through the Holy Spirit
by Jesus' servant
Linda Jackson

After I wrote this poem, I opened the Bible to
Psalm 145 and I came upon the words "glorious
splendor of Your Majesty". I was surprised to
actually find in the Bible what I had written
in the Spirit. It was like God was confirming
what I had written about His glorious splendor.
Sometimes we're walking
and wishing we could run.
Sometimes we're talking
always looking for fun.
Most times we're thinking
searching out reality.
Deep, deep thinking...

Jean Monger
A FORGOTTEN CHRIST

This is 2401 (?) A.D.
Time for the second coming, you see.
There is a sudden trumpet blare,
The dead in Christ are in the air
To meet our blessed Savior Christ,
In His great evangelical heist.
But, what's this? No live ones to go?
Now that's a switch, don't you know.
The sinners are blind, they cannot see,
They don't even know that they should make a plea.
What happened to God's magnificent plan?
Was it neglected by the Son of man?
No! Christ gave His all to see us live,
Mankind was the one that failed to give.
They would not go along Christ's way,
They were too determined to have their say.

Now this little poem is just a thought,
A little rhyme that ran through my head.
But all is not a God would have wrought,
"Go ye unto all the world...", He has said.

Chris Monger

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