Praise and Poetry

[navyblue]

Good Bad and Godly
By Arley Steinhour 013112

With players in position, Good and Evil now to trace,
To see just who the bad and good guys are,
With Anti-logic thinking, to put each clue in place,
We must stop the 'victim,' before they go too far.

There is a mean 'young' Nation, Twelve Million plus a few,
Pouring Cup of consternation , on a Billion 'victim' folk,
Fresh from the 'Spas of Concentration,' with nothing else to do,
Than to steal this 'Desecrated land,' as some kind of 'joke.'

Oh, the 'victim' cries and wails, as they're carted off to Jail,
For defending 'their' land, from Jew's who received it back,
For shooting rockets cross the border, to cause Israel travail,
The poor 'victims' suffer greatly, when the Jew fights back.

Bullets fly, people die, no one can be nice,
Four thousand years of Feuding, is what it be,
Treaties signed, far more than twice,
Like Hatfield and McCoy, plain to see.

What caused this problem, you might ask,
I doubt any could well explain,
Who best serves the 'One God,' task,
To be worthy of Blessing Rain.

Want to know who the Real God be,
'Victim' says 'to kill' for him sets them free,
The God of the Jew, came and died for you and even me,
So with Him, our souls could forever be, free, even me.

Soon comes a time of Seven years,
Of Great destruction, with death galore,
When 'anti-god' does enjoy the cheers,
From those thinking he gives much more.

When the Seven are finished, final battle won,
Stands One God worthy of Worship, and Praise,
With the 'Anti-god,' locked in chains by God's 'Son,'
Who Rules One Thousand Years, to teach God's ways.

AMEN

My mind woke up thinking in a weird sort of way, almost as if I could still ride a horse, so if the words don't quite make sense, will mean my mind has gone way off course. Haaa-Yeee, I think I'm me.
Try it, You'll like it.

[navyblue]

Pneumonial Praise
By Arley Steinhour 021312

Dare I ponder what was happening,
To this body so wracked with pain,
Eight days of royal suffering,
Signs of health I could not feign;

Ability to barely breath,
Healing sleep beyond my grasp,
Standing there before the 'Gate,'
With the One-Way Golden Hasp.

In and out of Prayer to God,
On and off, with conscious thought,
Would I meet the cover of the Sod,
Or Raptured out of Cemetery plot?

Thoughts and feelings, much like this,
Ran through my mind, this week,
Would I suffer loss, or enjoy bliss,
And, inherit, as will the meek.

I do not fear what some call 'die,'
The name I like, is 'graduate,'
Either way, like cake or pie,
It can call, and is never late.

What started as suspected Cold,
Proved Pneumonia, I do believe,
Bronchi slime, so sticky and bold,
And nose, no air to retrieve.

Sunday, the glue began to flow,
My breath brought back my life,
Today, a smile I can even show,
Free of that sticky, snotty, strife.

A few more days, recovering,
I'll be as good as new,
Back on line, and Blathering,
My Praise to God, and you.

AMEN

I can't say I was this pretty, nor anywhere this thin,
The nose comes close to how mine felt, in this battle I did just win.

[navyblue]

CUP of COFFEE
By Arley Steinhour 021512

Praise to you, oh Lord my God,
With me, both day and night,
Guiding and protecting me,
With your Holy Spirit Light.

Somewhere in the dark of sleep,
A dream of you did come to me,
It was early in the morning light,
You'd poured me a cup of coffee.

My mind was kind of in a fog,
As I raised my cup to sip,
First thing noted, fragrance,
Like being at sea, without a ship.

Lifting mug some closer,
I saw it was half full,
Liquid, warm, thick, and steamy,
With the strength of Papal Bull.

I knew my mind was playing,
A joke upon itself,
I was almost visualizing,
Children dancing on meadow shelf.

Closer to my lips the liquid came,
Gently crossing threshold to my life,
Blossoms bloomed, Music Sailed,
Imagine total absence of any strife.

The coffee didn't just pass by,
It refreshed my totality,
Warm, strong, smooth, sweet,
I've never felt so Loved and Free.

I hadn't even yet began to swallow,
What would happen, once a part of me,
To 'swallow' anything of God,
Makes you part of His Family.

I already know that answer,
As He smiled and bent my ear,
"Come, take part in the whole meal,
I have your reservation held right here."

We're standing in the kitchen,
Breakfast foods cooking all around,
I cannot take you to that part,
'Insufficient memory,' my PC found.

I share with you a small part,
So you can have a hint or two,
of my wake-up call, with God, to start,
What Jesus wants to do for you.

Heaven's more than a cup of coffee,
Far, Far, more than just a meal,
Eternal gifts beyond our wildest dream,
As we 'Taste' His coffee, at 'Gate Entry Meal.'

What did it taste like, you might ask,
There's no words for me to tell,
Every soul receives a 'Gate-Taste,'
I mourn for those who taste, at the 'Gate of Hell.'

AMEN

Coffee at the Breakfast nook, is way beyond my word,
Inadequate for emotion felt, but my gasp was never heard.

[navyblue]

END OF STORY
By Arley Steinhour 021812

Dear Father God, would you mind,
If I just chat and ramble?
So many things of diverse kind,
Makes mortality like a gamble.

The Holy Word, that came from you,
On Sinai, your Holy Mountain,
Lay down a guide of laws, but few,
That you want man to ascertain.

Three point five Millennia, ago,
You wrote out all to Moses,
Since, man added to the flow,
Laws now run out of our noses.

Laws you gave, are hung out to dry,
We barely know now what they say,
The laws of man often say yours lie,
You gave them on a 'Bad Hair day.'

Our teachers trying to bring us back,
To your Truth, in how things be,
The 'Modern Experts' give no slack,
Demanding marriage can be He with He.

We do not pay our children's fare,
within your Holy Spirit Guide,
We ship them to the 'Fair' 'Day-Care,'
Behind new laws, they're taught to hide.

Our children think it's properly Fair,
To Lie, to Cheat, and Steal,
When they want, they do not care,
They can do just as they 'Feel.'

In the Days of Noah, sons, and wives,
Again, of Lot, wife, and daughters, living,
Surrounded by world, where Sin Strives,
To remove Your Blessing and Your Giving.

The cycle of man is back in mire,
Mankind wrests control, again, from you,
Many doing what Sin does desire,
With Faithful in You, becoming too Few.

For Faith in You, we're hated,
Our 'Right' is now called 'Wrong,'
Redeemed suffer, Satan sated,
Tribulation, we pray, before too long.

When time is right, dear God, you'll act,
Your Will be done, unto your Glory,
Millennium Thousand, Final Fact,
And that's the END OF STORY.
AMEN

Tribulation, nigh at hand, with all Travail about,
Keep the watch for what's left to be, Blow Trumpet, give a Shout.

[navyblue]

I was asked, by a Christian brother to author a tribute poem, to his love for his recently departed wife, and her love for him, coupled with their love for her son, who graced their marriage/mortal life.
With Richard's permission, to do so, I offer something I have never authored prior to this, a double-barreled, obliquely angled, praise to God, and Love.

Richard and Shirley's Path

By Arley Steinhour 021712

Words to you, Kent, and God:

Dear brother, Richard, here I start,
You ask the difficult of me,
As if I could ever know your heart,
I could know your Family Tree.

Your request rang to my poetic vein,
Three times, I put my 'verser' in gear,
Hoping words would flow like healing rain,
Three times, that 'verser,' I just couldn't steer.

The feelings you expressed to me,
Few Mortal people seem to have in kind,
Your feelings, though, I can never see,
For, only your two lives were full-entwined.

I can, however, hover near,
Give you hint of what I see,
Maybe find a rhyme to bend your ear,
Or, at least to liven up a mournful plea.

So, Shirley "passed, three years ago,"
Or, did she really 'Graduate?'
God blessed St. Patrick's day, you know,
She closed that day, just great.

To God, she gave her 'Lenten' pain,
As she lifted Home to Him,
Soon together, she and you, again,
Both then be forever young and trim.

"Forever love, and Precious stone,"
Words both eloquent, and strong,
'Missing her daily, as if alone,'
Soon with her there, before too long.

You "crave to see her, to caress,
Love and oneness, eternal feel,"
Memories of Ruby love so precious,
Few mortals can know how real.

Ten years, she suffered, through her strife,
I see no complaint from you,
Retired early to serve her fragile life,
As any 'True-Lover' gladly do.

The loneliness your heart does feel,
The empty spot within the heather,
It's polishing your eternal Seal,
When you and Shirley, will be one, again, forever.

How many years ago did you,
Take Shirley for your wife,
How many years ago did God,
Help Shirley bless and fill your life?

You say you two became as 'One,'
Some thirty years ago,
For Twenty, Shirley and her Son,
Joyous filled your life, on earth below.

Shirley, wrapped you like 'Rubied' shoulder cape,
Kent, soon, beloved son so True,
Love only grew, naught could dissipate,
The family blessing, God had given you.

So, weep not, worthy man of God,
You passed the test of time,
Look up, and smile in anticipation,
Celebrate, Shirley with God, and do not pine.

AMEN

Words to God, with cc-you, and Kent:

Dear Father God,
I may have found a mortal love,
That spans both Space and Time,
Ordained, I feel, from you, above,
Before me placed, so I might make it rhyme.

I now know part of their story,
Of love so deep and warm,
Still married to her even now, with her in glory,
as Richard weathers his mortal storm.

You took her Home, three years ago,
Ten years she suffered hard and long,
Perhaps you kept her here to show,
How life can be stomped, yet sing a song.

Second time around for both,
Richard and Shirley Carey,
Twenty years of bliss from Marriage oath,
Oh, wondrous day that they did marry.

More precious, she to him, than rubies could impart,
For her, no hero on Silver-screen could best,
Her son, Kent, for Rich, like cake, frosting to his heart,
But, alas, then came that crucial test.

Richard received the opportunity,
To show Shirley just how much he could love,
To lock together their hearts for eternity,
With help from your blessings up above.

Ten years tempered the bonds of their true love,
As Shirley weakened, Bonding found greater strength,
Softly, warmly, Shirley graduated, to You, above,
Richard and Todd, left to mourn at length.

In the corners, of the silent home,
Richard strains to hear her hymn,
Longing for one misty glance to glome,
Please smile upon their ministry, and them at www.ncbiblestudy.com

AMEN and AMEN

[Keith]

Those are beautiful brother Arley! The Lord has blessed you with a wonderful gift.

[navyblue]

Shalom, and Thanks, Keith. I pray my praise helps someone out there to open their heart to Jesus, and become family, or strengthen a present family member. Perhaps I'll receive a few hugs, when we get home, from those helped.
It is tough trying to write uplifting, when so much hatred, and Terrorism is afloat, around us, but, we just need keep paddling our boat, and keeping the watch, as our rescue, and snatching, from the briny, draws nigh. Yeee-Haaa!!! and AMEN

Hope you all like this one:

Praise Timing Plea
By Arley Steinhour 022412

Dear Father, God, my Praise to you,
My Worship, before your Throne,
Where worshipers should not be few,
I feel almost as if alone.

What do you see, as you look down,
On all of your planned creation,
More and more, you seem to wear a frown,
Focus on a person, or Beloved Nation?

More and more, my days, sorely spent,
Absorbing impact from hate, and death,
Brotherly love, set aside for 'Hell-bent,'
Your faithful can hardly catch our breath.

You told the Prophets, long ago,
The storyline we now portray,
As we play to a global horror show,
Stage lit, but curtain still in the way.

The Terror acts that we now see,
Being played on Fore of Stage,
Just harbinger of what's to be,
Seals broken, Tribulation then can Rage.

The curtain will rise with Seventh Seal,
Expectant silence from pit, and crowd,
Prophesied spinning of Satan's wheel,
Builds in horror, until screaming loud.

Placed Abomination of Desolation,
Will Herald Hell on Earth, for all,
Wrath of God on all Beastly Nations,
Only twenty percent hear curtain fall.

A Thousand years, for those surviving,
They live without Satan's sway,
Redeeming the earth back to thriving,
Under Messiah the King, His Way.

Alas, not all is over, quite yet,
Satan has but one final gate,
Knowing he's lost, plays one more bet,
Takes as many souls with, to his Fate.

I cannot tell you how to choose,
Holy Spirit, only, can light the way,
I know, if you do miss the light, you lose,
Where you'll be, you won't ever pray.

Consider, now, to kneel before Jesus,
Accept his Gift, full payment for Sin,
Holy Spirit will light your heart without fuss,
Then, we all spend Eternity with HIM.

AMEN

Isa 61:1 The Spirit of GOD, Yahweh, is upon me; because Yahweh hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; Isa
61:2 To proclaim the acceptable age of Yahweh,...(*More to follow at second coming)

[navyblue]

SALVATION FIGHT
By Arley Steinhour 022512

I read a Christian's story, on Gazette site,
About, being forgiven, without a fight,
He said, just to give up, surrender to Jesus,
Redemption price paid by Blood, shed for us.

Too easy, too easy, I think they would say,
It's must be tough, so I'll do it my way,
That voice in my heart can never be right,
To win my salvation, I'll stand up and fight.

I fell on my face, when I tripped on his word,
I yelled, somebody tripped me, but nobody heard,
No one was there, but me and the floor,
The bare walls, had nothing more than a door;

Tried to go left, fell flat on my face,
Ran another direction, in the very same place,
I truly got tired of no work working here,
I finally broke down, whispered words for your ear;

Dear Lord, please forgive me, this sinning man,
Wash me clean with your blood, as was your plan,
There's naught I can do, to redeem my soul,
Only your blood has value, achieving that goal.

Fill my heart with your Spirit, up to the brim,
Make me a part of you, I repent sin through him,
Eternal, this binding, a Marriage Contract,
You paid my Bride Price, I now learn how to act.

Things that I do, from this point, of my story,
Belongs only to you, and to you, the Glory,
Words I now say, from Spirit filled heart,
Disciples my life, to an everyday part.

I'll put on my collar, wear suit of black,
Take the trials of this world on my back,
I'll shepherd my congregation with loving care,
Knowing you're with me, each step, you share.
AMEN

To those who can Shepherd Jesus' lambs, they have my deep respect,
Everyone of Christian Name, Disciple they should be,
His Truth we need follow, circumspect,
To keep 'well pruned' His Family Tree.

[navyblue]

SHOT OVER THE BOW
By Arley Steinhour 022612

Love you Lord, Yes I do,
Glad I turned my heart to you,
Waiting for that fateful day,
When you come take us away.

If my life can't wait Rapture out,
Still coming Home with Yeee-Haaa shout,
Singing loudly, all the way,
To be with you, eternal day.

Signs of oncoming Tribulation,
Travail of earth, every Nation,
Divers places shaking strong,
Critters singing a mournful song.

Certain people, do complain,
Especially when it's financial pain,
Satan knows the strings to pull,
To make us itch, like wearing wool.

He's got me itching, head to toe,
If I'm wrong, I'll need to change my know,
'To insure that some folk we don't offend,'
He wants to change your Book, end to end.

Change words, to fit the Arab mind,
No Father, Son, Spirit, will you find,
God of One, devoid of a Son,
'Allah,' and 'Prophet,' Two, not One.

For 'peace,' there be only one name, 'Allah,'
Arabic, for Hebrew Elohim (GOD), (my PSHAW!),
One change to my Bible, too much subversion,
Relent once, more demanded, excessive conversion.

The problem, to fester, might take a while,
All of that time only Muslim's will smile,
Knowing that they have cheated our God,
It's Jesus Believers, who will suffer the Rod.
AMEN

news.yahoo.com/father-son-ousted-trinity-bible-translations-003300519.html
ON DECK, this is the Captain. I SAID, Over the Bow, not Through It!! (Dramatic license)

[navyblue]

Penny Postcards and History
By Arley Steinhour 022712

Looking back, to the early days, of USA Historiology,
Catch a tad of simple life, before TV or Electricity.

Dirt street abounding, neon not hounding, a world, both simple and Free,
Life filled at fifty, work done by dark, when no longer could one see.

Ah, yes, those were the simple days, life filled to brim with living,
No side effects from medicine, no reason not to be giving.

The beauty of the butterfly, was quite a sight to see,
To ponder something truly deep, study on a tree.

There was one day for leisure, Sunday always came,
God and Church, then picnic fishing, at pond, that had a 'Name.'

The dark side still was Satan, no other brought such fear,
Except, Polio, or TB, with Pneumonia always near.

Today, some say, ‘See, those are gone;’ little do they see,
Crippling diseases simply replace by a worse catastrophe.

But, I didn’t come to sing a dirge, but offer History,
Of simple times, in story rhyme, like circles on a tree.

The fresh, new day we enter, as the sun does welcome rise,
Won’t take that long to be History, in somebody else’s eyes.

Enjoy the life that’s give you, that means the here and now,
Reflect upon the things that were, after sweating on the plow.

A part of now, and historic view, holds promise, oh so true,
We can have eternal memory, of wonders making me and you.

Just turn your heart to the Scientist, who made this whole world up,
Jesus has plans for everyone, if we ask, He fills our eternal cup.

AMEN

www.usgwarchives.org/special/ppcs/ppcs.html

When life needed fitting shoes, and gloves for working hand, Life, both full, and simple, was enjoyed throughout the land.

[navyblue]

Everlasting Dream
By Arley Steinhour 022812

I woke up, in the dark of night,
Audio Bible playing crisp and clear,
A dream I'd had, like shining light,
Filled my thoughts that you were here.

Upset when folks say this Nation,
Has naught to do with you,
With voice full of consternation,
You said, you had set a seal so true.

In the Bay of the New City,
Stands 'Liberty, 'flame held high,
'Come to me, all needing pity,
Walk free, with me, not cry.'

'Liberty,' she be the marker,
Island, Ellis be the Seal,
Seekers come from freedoms darker,
Pursuit of happiness, here to feel.

Inside, they shed all they've left behind,
The Sin, and Pain, and Death,
Step into Sunlight, equal in kind,
To forever draw freedoms breath;

Eager for the work at hand,
To fill hearts with freedoms call,
Become a new One Nation Band,
Nevermore to be treated Small.

The new way was quite strange at first,
Took some folk years to pass the test,
Rewards were bound by input, and thirst,
Work in, Reward out, Pride in self, the best.

Knowing, they must pass along,
That which feeds our Freedom Call,
Children, to learn the freedom song,
To never allow their freedoms to fall.

Alas, the children shirked their sway,
Island, Ellis, set aside, forlorn,
They found Welfare, 'no work, with pay,'
Freedom song, heard, as if unborn.

It didn't seem to take that long,
To stifle the flame of freedom's sway,
They found they could sing a new law-song,
Tax the dumb, hard worker, for more pay.

Working folk, locked into paying bills,
has finally had more than enough,
Welfare rolls swollen into Mountainous Hills,
They'll not pay for non-workers stuff.

Immigration is a whole lot like Jesus,
He loves, and cares, and saves,
Until, the people quit working for His trust,
Coming soon, He will make new ways.

There's going to be a shake-up, soon,
The Sheep and the Goats, sorted out,
Sheep on Earth, Goats to Judgment room,
He'll Rule, with the Rod, and Great Clout.

A Thousand years, of Perfect Rule,
King of Kings and mankind; in charge,
To break God's way, a man be a Fool,
Fool Crowd, at the end, quite large.

Satan released; the 'Fools,' his own,
With new tools of War, they Rage,
Jesus speaks, they die, and gone,
Satan to Lake of Fire, end of page.

I won't mention Great White Throne,
Most know what goes on there,
The 'Sheep' go on to Glory Land,
The 'Goat,' to Fire, you know where.

This be the end of History,
The clock will run no more,
Back to one day called Eternity,
God, and Family, ever more.
AMEN

Eternal Home, is where we will be, when all is said and done, but, only if Jesus owns your heart through His Gift of Salvation. We're running out of time quite soon, can't say when that will be. Look around and read The Book, and you might see what I see.

[navyblue]

The Masters Ride
By Arley Steinhour 030112

There lives a Great White Stallion,
In Heaven's Meadow, so Sublime,
At a show, win Top Medallion,
With Conformation's Perfect Line.

Groomed unto perfection,
Not a hair found out of place,
Always ready for inspection,
Always ready for to race.

This Mighty Steed, un-ridden,
Not once a leg upon it's back,
All souls know that's forbidden,
No saddle nor bridle in the Tack.

Every step a joyous prancing,
Every look, a steely stare,
Movement just like ballet dancing,
Never once had it a care.

Nostrils, flare with gentile quiver,
at the scent within the air,
So welcome that the neck did shiver,
Anticipating who comes there.

Stallion's, showmanship of prancing,
Now lifts hooves with Regal Air,
Master's footsteps, soft advancing,
Raise anticipation beyond compare.

Slowly, softly, with cooing voice,
The Master greets the Stallions love,
Softly offering its nose a choice,
Of a rub, or treat held in the glove.

Stallion opts, of course, for sweet treat,
Knows, the rub is soon to follow,
But, the Masters voice is extra sweet,
Speaks to Stallion, as a trusted fellow:

"You've waited long, to sing your song,
'War Horse,' your family tree,
Today, we blow Trumpet, loud and long,
As we set our people free;

'Time of the Gentile,' we now close,
Satan jailed a Thousand years,
We'll rule on earth, iron rod impose,
My Kingdom, with no War, no Fears."

The Master grabbed a hank of hair,
Swung strong upon Stallions back,
Stallion felt the joy, to have Him there,
One mount, and knew it's life track.

Head held high, neck bent to charge,
Master secure, and mounted strong,
From His mouth, a sword so large,
There'd be a battle, before long.

The pure and shining whiteness,
Of the Masters Robes turned Red,
On thigh, 'King of Kings,' to witness,
In this battle, Masters blood already shed.

To realize honored End Time role,
Proud to serve, is Stallions heart,
Helping God, the King, of every soul,
Knows God has blessed it to its part.
AMEN

The time is coming, very soon,
Midnight, or perhaps high noon,
When the master comes again this way,
To close this Time that now holds sway.
He may have a special horse to ride,
I'm fairly sure, but, you decide.

[navyblue]

BLUE ROSE
By Arley Steinhour 030812

Keep your eye pealed for a Blue Rose,
you can find them, if you care,
In the bouquet of God's flowers,
Awaiting recognition, there.

Most will walk right past them,
As they don't quite act like us,
They live within a simple world,
We stare out, from crowded bus.

With a brain that's wired different,
Focused where ours cannot yet see,
We think their view is slightly bent,
Where we can't, they see free.

We be Roses, Red and White,
Those few, a Royal Blue,
Because we cannot see the light,
We reject them through and through.

If we'd stop, look them in the eye,
Search their heart for clarity,
Set aside our complicated lie,
We'd see a bit of what they see.

Don't turn away from abnormal Rose,
When they be colored Royal Blue,
How we act shows what God knows,
The True Color of me and you.

I received an email story,
That prompted what I say,
To Him, our God, the Glory,
As we watch for 'Blue' today.

AMEN

Story (author 'Steve ?_'):
" Having four visiting family members, my wife was very busy, so I offered to go to the store for her to get some needed items, which included light bulbs, paper towels, trash bags, detergent and Clorox. So off I went.

I scurried around the store, gathered up my goodies and headed for the checkout counter, only to be blocked in the narrow aisle by a young man who appeared to be about sixteen-years-old. I wasn't in a hurry, so I patiently waited for the boy to realize that I was there. This was when he waved his hands excitedly in the air and declared in a loud voice, "Mommy, I'm over here."

It was obvious now, he was mentally challenged and also startled as he turned and saw me standing so close to him, waiting to squeeze by. His eyes widened and surprise exploded on his face as I said, "Hey Buddy, what's your name?"

"My name is Denny and I'm shopping with my mother," he responded proudly.

"Wow," I said, "that's a cool name; I wish my name was Denny, but my name is Steve."

"Steve, like Stevarino?" he asked. "Yes," I answered. "How old are you Denny?"

"How old am I now, Mommy?" he asked his mother as she slowly came over from the next aisle

"You're fifteen-years-old Denny; now be a good boy and let the man pass by."

I acknowledged her and continued to talk to Denny for several more minutes about summer, bicycles and school. I watched his brown eyes dance with excitement, because he was the center of someone's attention. He then abruptly turned and headed toward the toy section.

Denny's mom had a puzzled look on her face and thanked me for taking the time to talk with her son. She told me that most people wouldn't even look at him, much less talk to him.

I told her that it was my pleasure and then I said something I have no idea where it came from, other than by the prompting of the Holy Spirit. I told her that there are plenty of red, yellow, and pink roses in God's Garden; however, "Blue Roses" are very rare and should be appreciated for their beauty and distinctiveness.

You see, Denny is a Blue Rose and if someone doesn't stop and smell that rose with their heart and touch that rose with their kindness, then they've missed a blessing from God.

She was silent for a second, then with a tear in her eye she asked, "Who are you?"

Without thinking I said, "Oh, I'm probably just a dandelion, but I sure love living in God's garden."

She reached out, squeezed my hand and said, "God bless you!" and then I had tears in my eyes.

May I suggest, the next time you see a BLUE ROSE, don't turn your head and walk off. Take the time to smile and say Hello. Why? Because, by the grace of GOD, this mother or father could be you. This could be your child, grandchild, niece or nephew. What a difference a moment can mean to that person or their family.

From an old dandelion: Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God."


(In the bouquet of life, we need surround our 'Blue Rose' folk, with Loving Care, so they know we're there.)

[navyblue]

A Christian
(Author Unknown (maybe God))

Several years ago, a preacher from out-of-state accepted a call to a church in Houston , Texas . Some weeks after he arrived, he had an occasion to ride the bus from his home to the downtown area. When he sat down, he discovered that the driver had accidentally given him a quarter too much change. As he considered what to do, he thought to himself, 'You'd better give it back. It would be wrong to keep it.' Then he thought, 'Oh, forget it, it's only a quarter. Who would worry about this little amount? Anyway, the bus company gets too much fare; they will never miss it. Accept it as a 'gift from God' and keep quiet.'

When his stop came, he paused momentarily at the door, and then he handed the quarter to the driver and said, 'Here, you gave me too much change.'
The driver, with a smile, replied, 'Aren't you the new preacher in town?' 'Yes,' he replied.

'Well, I have been thinking a lot lately about going somewhere to worship. I just wanted to see what you would do if I gave you too much change. I'll see you at church on Sunday.'

When the preacher stepped off the bus, he literally grabbed the nearest light pole, held on, and said, 'Oh God, I almost sold your Son for a quarter!'

Our lives are the only Bible some people will ever read. This is a really scary example of how much people watch us as Christians, and will put us to the test! Always be on guard -- and remember -- You carry the name of Christ on your shoulders when you call yourself 'Christian.'

Watch your thoughts ; they become words.

Watch your words; they become actions.

Watch your actions; they become habits..

Watch your habits; they become character.

Watch your character; it becomes Destiny.

When you reach 'Destiny,' it's For Eternity.


Be it thirty pieces, or just one, Either way, you've sold the Son.

[navyblue]

Rapture Call
By Arley Steinhour 031112

How do we come before your throne,
All as one, yet each alone,
At Bema Judgment, you we stand before,
There is none other, reward, the chore.

Satan will try to scream and shout,
You look at our Sins, and throw them out,
You gently hear his loud tirade,
With smile on face, say, 'Price is paid.'

Soon you come, high in the sky,
Those you take, will never die,
We Graduate, you take us home,
We are the Bride, yours alone.

In your hand pure, our good deeds,
Dross burned away, unwanted weeds,
Rub hands together, all takes shape,
Give us our crown, jeweled at the nape.

How do you do that, I wonder much,
It's just a part of your Loving touch,
Your hug, around my shoulders, strong,
Kiss on cheek, that lasts so long,

Welcomed Home, and at your side,
You be ours, we are your Bride,
Our Home ready, all things free,
Together with you, Eternally.

AMEN

I'd betcha He knows the 'Day and Hour' now, while we still need use 'Soon.' He will call us, to top of mountain, side of cloud, or even to the 'Moon.'

[navyblue]

Rain of your Reign
By Arley Steinhour 031212

Dear Father God, I must confess,
Your Truth rings loud and clear,
Problems, our nation must address,
Or increasingly live in fear.

You gave to us this Grand Land,
For all of earth to dwell,
In Freedoms gift we must lend a hand,
Develop Earthly Heaven, this side of Hell.

Alas, we seem to have failed the test,
With Greed's Discriminatory flow,
Rich, rich, and Poor, poor at best,
Blindly seeking Hell's door to know.

As in the days of Noah, and the days of Lot,
You seem to have grown tired,
After giving our plight much thought,
For Country U.S.A. to be 'Retired.'

You gave us what we needed,
Leaders who would cheat and lie,
To take away what we never heeded,
With Greedy eyes, just watch it die.

I offer my opinion, lest I cry,
A weight upon my heart, filled with pain,
Watching closely for you in the sky,
In hopes you'll give us cleansing rain;

The 'Rain' to which I do address,
Is better spelled as 'Reign,'
The only way to purge this stress,
So Hell, is never seen again.

The 'Leadership,' we thought we had,
Does, like they before him, lied,
With heart that can only be Satan clad,
May We the People, vote what you decide.
AMEN

It's in the Gate, maybe now too late, I wonder, oh I wonder.
Perhaps, we'd get another chance, if we Repent, without further Ponder?

[navyblue]

Hopeful Praise
By Arley Steinhour 031212

Am I correct, or wrong, again,
Either way, I may need hide,
In my sleeve, is Ace to play,
'Jesus comes, to snatch His Bride.'

Many brothers and sisters, mine,
would shudder at the thought,
That anyone think they knew the time,
When believing, Bible says we cannot.

I can't say absolute, through a curtain,
There's two times that hint at the day,
Yom Teruah, is Trumpet filled for certain,
Pentecost screams, to 'Come Away.'

Yom Teruah, or Rosh Hashanah,
Determined by sighting Moon, so New,
No one knows that Day or Hour,
Perhaps, that 'saying' is our Clue.

Pentecost, Shavuot, also sneaky be,
Lonely Feast found only by 'Counting,'
When Holy Spirit christened, Christianity,
First half done, second yet to be?

What is the second, you might ask,
I'd be happy to oblige, for free,
It's 'End of Harvest,' time to bask,
Bridegroom 'Snatches' Bride, you and me?

Am I right, I cannot tell,
I hint at that possibility,
If I said 'He said,' I'd go to Hell,
False Prophet, is what I'd be.

With this, I praise our God on High,
Keeping Watch so I can Cry,
'I see Him coming, in the Sky,
Look up, and smile, it's time to Fly.'
AMEN

I should own a Carousel, and offer folk a free ride,
As much as I pray for Rapture, I might need run away and hide.
Nah!

[navyblue]

Poetic lead and video, about 1940's.
By Arley Steinhour (031312):

Just before I reached my teens,
I walked among these wondrous things,
A war that started with a Bang,
As songs of goodbye to youth we sang.

From the time I turned thirteen,
Nukes, and Jets were the machine,
On and on, up to the moon,
Now I'll be going to Heaven, soon.

Why don't you make heart decide,
And fly with me to the other side.
The time is short, like these memories,
Till we live with singing grass, and dancing trees.

The 1940s
www.objflicks.com/decadeofthe1940s.html

AMEN

Memories that fill the many years,
Often brings old men to tears,
That which was, will be again,
Graduated from our mortal chain.

[navyblue]

[size5]UNFIXABLE LEAK

[/size]
By Arley Steinhour 031312

Folks who pay taxes, won't pay anymore,
Pockets are thin, as their waist soon be,
Tax from the solvent, Entitled to the poor,
Too well ensconced now to say 'we are free.'

Those who truly 'can't,' smothered by those who 'won't,'
Those who won't, demand more, of those who pay,
Those who pay, ask for reason, Those who won't, don't,
Those who can't, suffer, when those who won't, play.

Those who can't work, need help in their life,
Those who will work, agree, and pay tax,
Those who won't work, cause great fiscal strife,
Perhaps it's time to give 'Won't' folks, 'Entitlement Ax.'

Oh, wailing, and gnashing of teeth you will hear,
As they rush to Congress, demanding,
'We have a Right, to what we want here,
Payers are not those 'Commanding.''

Congress will promise, reaction be fast,
They that pay have no right to recant,
Congress need votes, so entitlement lasts,
There's too many who won't, to out-chant.

Then, those who 'Pay,' will settle the day,
As they pack up their desk, and depart,
Those who 'can't,' and 'won't,' have no pay,
Those who 'pay' go somewhere, restart.

The buildings all leak, streets are a mess,
Creatures lurk behind frames with no glass,
The system was great, until Entitlement Test,
The world, for lack of 'Payers' don't last.

Congress is somewhere, living 'the life,'
With the Graft and Corruption type pay,
The 'can't' are dead, the 'won't' in great strife,
Those who 'pay,' working hard, hid-away.

U S A couldn't 'PAY,' so the World just simply collapsed. AMEN[/center]
Choices, Choices, How many ways are there to show that this Titanic is sinking, or a cup of coffee is too high, or gas is way to high when you purchase with an eye-dropper?? Hmmm. Frustration can even find me.

[navyblue]

Blonde Search
Poetry by Arley Steinhour 031512
(Story from WEB, author unknown)

I’m not sure about the ‘Blonde’ thing,
But there’s humor in these words,
Someone had to feel the sting,
Humor don’t work well, on the Nerds.

I met a real, Blonde, woman, once,
Planed on asking her, if true,
‘Are Blonds truly the species dunce,
Or keeping secrets from the crew?’

I didn’t get a chance to ask,
Itinerary was extra full,
Running a country was her task,
And, on her time, I had no pull.

So, I stand here, unrequited,
Question, still upon my mind,
I hope to, soon, have admitted,
Gray hair is not of the Blonde kind.

AMEN
________________________________________

THE BLONDE AND THE LORD

A blonde wanted to go ice fishing. She'd seen many books on the subject, and finally getting all the necessary tools together, she made for the ice.

After positioning her comfy footstool, she started to make a circular cut in the ice. Suddenly, from the sky, a voice boomed,

"THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE."

Startled, the blonde moved further down the ice, poured a thermos of cappuccino, and began to cut yet another hole. Again from the heavens the voice bellowed,

"THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE."

The blonde, now worried, moved away, clear down to the opposite end of the ice. She set up her stool once more and tried again to cut her hole.

The voice came once more,

"THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE."

She stopped, looked skyward, and said,
"IS THAT YOU LORD?"

The voice replied,

"No, this is the manager of the hockey rink.


P.S.
Humor IS the Road to Health,
What you read is what you get,
It don't matter how much wealth,
Just ask yourself: 'Am I Blonde Yet??'

(Your don't have to be thin, to think 'Blonde')