Praise and Poetry II

[navyblue]

Safe Harbor Attack nr1
By Arley Steinhour 110913

Dear Jesus,
For all you do, I praise your Holly Name,
The torment, deep within, is not the same,
The Demons continue, no more 'Very Strong,'
I submitted them to you, where they belong.

I made an error, with the thought I could help,
Forgetting that my power is that of whelp,
Good Samaritan, only needed two pence,
'Open House' allowance, my error filled sense.

Approaching me, as stranded, and alone,
I erred by letting them into my home,
Holy Spirit seemed to give me His O-Kay,
If, they needed but a day or two, to stay.

Stipulation, I could call 'Safe Harbor' off,
For whatever reason, and they wouldn't scoff,
Their Number-One agreed, by mental thought,
I believed all be well, as agreement aught.

Number-one assured they'd have short rescue stay,
But, greater their population, seemed, each day,
Playfulness, soon became actions, belligerent,
As if 'Owners,' of my home, and 'body-tent.'

Again, I went to Jesus, faithfully every day,
He placed upon my heart, to move away,
Malevolent, actions changing to be,
Dangerously stressful, was harming me.

As agreed, I asked them to move away,
They said 'You let us in, and here we'll stay,'
Like the Christian, Alpha male, I tend to be,
I rebuked them, and they said, 'Go climb a tree.'

The weeks rolled on, their contempt ablaze,
To set them back under control, many days,
They're almost beaten, though still in the fray,
They now know Jesus, controls their every day.

As time goes by, I may share some more,
Unless the Demons repent, and shut the door,
I'm tired of fighting, it's now quite a chore,
Too, Old, Fat, and Ugly, for this kind of War.

Maranatha, Dear Jesus, AMEN

As Flame, and Strife, surround one's life,
We often wonder, 'are we Jesus' Wife,
With Faith much smaller than Mustard seed,
And Prayer Life, of none, makes us a WEED.
Archive & pic, at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/55817/

[navyblue]

Tetrad Five on Deck
By Arley Steinhour 111013

The Tetrad is a rare event,
Blood Moon's, to some, brings fear,
Science say's 'light is bent,'
And the Christian, 'God is here.'

I won't tell the longer story,
On how an Eclipse moon be red,
We must ponder Israel, God's Glory,
After Science, once it's put to bed.

Two straight years of Eclipsed Moon,
Eclipse, and God's Feasts, conjoining,
Accent signs, of good things, soon,
A part of Blessing, or a Warning.

'In Fourteen Hundred, Ninety Two,
Columbus sailed the Ocean Blue,'
King of Spain, threw out the Jew,
Moving to America, primed to do.

Next, came Nineteen Seventeen,
Jerusalem fell, to English General Allenby,
Not time for Jew, to yet be 'Seen,'
So, Temple Mount left, to Islam, free.

World War Two, for the Jew,
Those surviving Death-bed camps,
United Nations, order for the few,
'Build your Nation, Light the Lamps.'

Then, in Nineteen Sixty Seven,
Six Days of work, then claiming Heaven,
On a Jubilee, still filled with Leaven,
Praying, at Wall, on a multiple of Seven.

Last Tetrad is Twenty Fourteen, and Fifteen,
Should it keep the sequence of the first four,
Israel events should be quiet amazing,
November or December might be the 'Door.'

The worst event might resemble a War,
An Hundred Jews, standing up to Islam's might,
Alas, God's Prophecies indicate what's in store,
'Stand Back, Oh, Israel, and Watch ME Fight.'

In an evening, it is done, God of Israel has Won,
Without His people, meeting harm, or death,
Five of Six, of enemy, now have met The SON,
One of Six survives, to witness Who gives breath.
Eze 38, 39:
AMEN

Soon, not just at the Wall, must they stay,
Soon, there be a glorious Temple day,
Soon, once again, the world will say,
'Have you seen a building, as Beautiful to Pray??'
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/55819/

[navyblue]

VETERAN Thanks and CALL
By Arley Steinhour 111113
Inspired by my Veteran Son:

Thank you too, oh Veteran, Son,
Son of Veteran, at least One,
Serving Country, Freedom Won,
By those who Served, from Day One.

Our Founding Fathers, took to Arms,
With naught more than Squirrel-gun,
Riding horses, shouting-out Alarms,
Men kissed wife, and came on the run.

Through this History so Bright,
We've kept our country free,
But now we're looking at the Night,
Without seeing what we see.

Apathy has grown in Free-men's hearts,
In goodness, developing full equality,
Advantage taken by those with Parts,
Within, this country, where all be Free.

The Freedom used, invoking our doom,
Use Equality, to 'the Few' to demand,
They set aside, 'Majority Rule Groom,'
To take all Freedoms from everyone's Hand.

To change Freedom's Constitution,
To quell the cheating, from within,
Will need a Veteran of Christian Groom,
To make this country whole, again.

So, light the torch, and sound the call,
All you Veterans in love with Country,
Echo your voice, from mountain and wall,
We need do something about our History.

AMEN

We stand before the Stones of Death,
Prayerfully thanking God for Breath,
So Many, didn't survive their youth.
Sacrificing All, for Liberty, as Proof.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/55828/

[navyblue]

CHURCH in the Gap
By Arley Steinhour 111213

Three Hundred stood within the gap
The foe approached Ten Thousand strong,
Gird in Red, to boot, and strap,
To clear the gap, would not take long.

The offer made, 'Come worship ME,
I'll allow you life and servitude,'
But, the 'Few' just could not see,
Unholy life, with 'Right' subdued.

For days, they stood against the foe,
Their numbers less than the day before,
Then the last of Life-blood's flow,
When, the 'Few' had breath, no more.

That 'Few,' remembered yet today,
To connote sacrifice for freedom,
Today, is played yet another way,
Do we survive, until God's Kingdom?

The difference is no longer numbers,
In that, we mostly be the same,
But, 'Prayerful,' verses 'Mumblers,'
When, 'One True God' be Mumbler's Name.

The Prayerful, worship, Evil of Heart,
The Mumbler's, God on High,
Anti-Truth, 'Foe,' from the start,
Where No Honor, or War Rules, apply.

'Reborn Mumblers,' gone in 'Rapture-Blink,'
The Church will have few members,
Just those refusing, 'Jesus' blood to drink,'
Then, Repents, unto Seven Decembers.

Both, passing through the years of Hell,
So many lost to Satan, the Dragon,
Through Anti-Christ, who casts a 'Spell,'
On 'Left-Behind,' in that Seven-Season.'

Turn to Jesus, Unrepentant, if you be,
That War is, Oh, So Close at Hand,
It starts with 'Peace, and Harmony,'
Let Not, Death, find you in Satan's Band.

AMEN

Satan, and Jesus, hand in hand,
To set the Church, aright,
Satan, just don't understand,
His Goals, DooMed, and OuT of SiGhT.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/55843/

[navyblue]

Plantation Mansion
By Arley Steinhour 111513

Driving down a country road,
The day seemed long and silent,
There'd been a shifting of my load,
I need mend, or have an outcome violent.

This was my last load of the year,
With Christmas, two days away,
I need stop, and fix, my load of beer,
With-which, many celebrate that day,

I knew the routine, very well,
I'd partaken in many a season,
Until, I learned, there is a Hell,
I had committed Salvation Treason.

A place to work, but, who knows where,
Until, I saw a lonely, forlorn sight,
A relic from old history, standing there,
A huge building, fraught with weather blight.

There was no gate, but, old sign, destroyed,
But, had no time to find another spot,
Turning in, saw building's front deployed,
Regality still shining, as if still Hot-ten-trot.

Like a magnet, drew me, to enter, and stop,
To stand in Awe, of a lifestyle, in books, alone,
Times when, by hand, man harvested crop,
Working hard, with Servants, weary to bone.

Soundness of structure, seemed to still be there,
Siding panels, colorless silver, to darker gray,
Having weathered storms, a major share,
With no paint applied, for many a day.

Elegance, screaming of Artistic Labor,
Many hands involved, in wood carving skill,
Only by Hireling sweat, and Regal favor,
Fitted the property, in living fettle, still.

Two magnificent buildings shown, as mirrored sight,
White Marble columns, front veranda support,
All panel woods, Black Walnut, and Oak, so white,
Great-room, quite wide, and tall, with echo report.

Deadlined, I need adjust load, and depart,
In that old Mansion, I knew I was leaving my heart,
And, Wherever I'd tarry, whenever I'd start,
I'd remember the Old Building, not on map Chart.

About to pull out, on the roadway to city,
I stopped to read what I could of the sign,
With great reason I prayed, as the sign said 'Heaven,'
Somehow, I'd return and that old building be mine.

On bended knees, gave my All to God
Then, an old man, came out of the Blue,
Saying, 'You now own that mansion, and Sod,
The life you now lead, reconstructs it, for YOU.

AMEN

Imagine now, without care, or paint,
Only columns nice and bright,
Tis very close, to the beauty, I plaint,
To what I dreamt that night.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580

[navyblue]

Blessed Crumbs
By Arley Steinhour 111613

Blessed crumbs fall, from Father's Table,
Upon each of us, yes, every one,
Some weep, 'This is only crumb stable,'
but wise see them being, of the Son.

God sends his Son, to feed the world,
To be a crumb, or Dining fare,
Some refuse, lip tightly curled,
Some welcome, 'Son-Fare,' as we Share.'

He sets the table, calls one and all,
To be Judged on what Son has done,
Some, Mansion-Glory, but most, Eternal-stall,
Did they accept, or deny God's Crumb.

The time is now upon mankind,
To Accept, 'Son's Body, and Blood,'
'Hunger, and Thirst,' is only designed,
For Lake of Fire, and Brimstone flood.

Wake up, and know true Food of God,
Call Him 'Crumb, Christ Jesus, or Manna,'
Repent, and accept, His Scepter; or Rod,
For your Sin: Salvation, not Savanna.

AMEN

Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/55913/

Rev 111813//as//

[navyblue]

At Sea or Twain River
By Arley Steinhour 111713

I open eyes to Sunrise,
With Praise upon my lip,
In the position of no lies,
On my bed, like floating ship.

Lying there upon my back,
I look through window at the sky,
Alone with you, in my quiet shack,
Until You, my life had no 'why.'

Every soul can 'rise and shine,'
To the morning, in its glory,
Some will wake up, much like 'Kine,'
Food hunger, be their worry.

We pass through life, in our space,
Like ships, at sea, or Twain, the river,
Open space, or narrow place,
A distant face, or close care giver.

We live our lives, full to the end,
All with lives of sin-filled blight,
No thought, word, or deed, can defend,
Condemnation's, only, end in sight.

Most all admit, there is a book,
That, teaches, living of one's life,
That means the river, or a brook,
For the 'One' who takes your life.

He places it upon His heart,
And takes it to the Cross,
Perfect, He, did take our part,
In execution, and Sinner Loss.

Every soul on planet Earth,
May have Salvation, now,
Let His Love, for your, rebirth,
Never more, Sin, to be our plow.

To ply the narrow river,
Not as easy as sailing the Sea,
Following the only 'Twain' Giver,
Seals Salvation, for you and me.

AMEN

In Western world, souls 'Fall Away,'
In Asia, they're Jumping In,
Becoming Christian, Serious Play,
Being Christian, a Capital Sin.

With Faith in Jesus, they still jump in.
Hallelujah and AMEN
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/scripts/user/blog/manage.php?entryid=55915

[navyblue]

TIME RHYME
By Arley Steinhour 111813

We celebrate two Thanks-Giving days,
No one knows, if it happened before,
The Numbers folk say, 'Many Thousand years,'
Before again coincide, if ever, once more.

Thanksgiving, both, for Life in Freedom,
From, Winter's Cold, and Subjugation,
Pilgrims in God's new Land, survive,
Jews, in Israel, from Slavery, still alive.

God and Indians, helped the Pilgrim,
God, alone, did help the Jew, now free,
Pilgrim had food, to quell starvation,
Menorah oil, for One day, burned for Eight.

A very special process needed,
To make the Oil mix just right,
To light Menorah, before our God,
Any other, would be 'Strange Fire.'

Third Thursday, in November, this be the only one,
Allowing both to share, this same day of fun,
For Thirty Seven Thousand years,
Almost finds mortal man in Tears.

Notice how the rhyme is lost,
Somewhere in the words,
But in another language, will be found,
Time completed, God hasn't invented yet.

Someday, soon, I do believe,
When these 'Last Days,' are completed,
He still has 'God Tricks,' up His sleeve,
To make sure no one has cheated.

AMEN
In Thirty Seven Thousand years,
We'll have a great big party,
To celebrate with food, and cheers,
Dancing, Hale and Hearty.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/55928/

[navyblue]

Come Be With Me
By Arley Steinhour 112113

Somewhere in this heart, that's me,
My soul, that's filled with memory,
Of life in this mortality,
Jesus, 'The switch,' sets me Free.

My graduation, won't take long,
As it starts, I'll take to song,
As I head Home, where I belong,
With You, to Heaven; without, all wrong.

I long so much to graduate,
Not too early, not too late,
As He Judges, that 'on my plate,'
To then, receive my 'Works Estate.'

I'm sure there's something, yet to do,
Maturation, or something for you,
Perhaps, it's witness, till out of the Blue,
He Sounds the Trumpet, and Church Age is through.

From the grave, erupts, the 'Dead so True,'
And closely behind, the living, sworn, but few,
At Bhīma Judgment, Crown for Works, we do,
Eternal life in Jerusalem, known as "New."

If only, those who turn away,
Could envision, that Eternal Day,
Where, all we ever want to say,
Is 'Come Worship God,' even at play.

Come, join us, through Eternity,
And, make the choice, that sets one Free,
The other place, you don't want to be,
Promised by Jesus, so, come be with me.

AMEN and AMEN

The Dead in Christ, Body to Soul,
Living in Christ, Body and Soul
The 'Left Behind,' can still save Soul,
Ponder and Pray, Last chance of His Goal.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/55985/

[navyblue]

Frosty Carrot Love
By Arley Steinhour 112213

The sky is sad, and cloudy gray,
The land is Snow bright white,
My great deductive powers say,
We got a touch of snow, last night.

I'd go out to make a snow-man,
With a carrot for a nose,
Snow insufficient, to carry plan,
So carrot goes back to where it goes.

I open up refrigerator, to let the carrot rest,
Perhaps, tonight, we receive enough,
To help the carrot look it best,
Upon the brand-new snowman, cleanly stuffed.

You see, Once upon a time, ago,
The snow-mans eyes did glow,
Two small chunks of heating coal,
From Snow-man, Love would flow.

With hat and scarf, plus teeth so bright,
Round stones for buttons, and smile,
Once Snow-man was decked just right,
We children, Would sing, and dance, a while.

Around the World the fun caught on,
With all, the joy, and singing,
Christmas caroling, Poetic Song,
Kept, even grouchy 'carrots, winging.

Burl Ives, or was it Gene Autry,
Caught the mood, one year, in song,
They named the snow-man 'Frosty,'
So it could sing, and dance along.

Somehow, a blob of frozen snow,
Blessed all mankind, here below,
A gift from God, to let us know,
He Played 'Frosty,' in our Christmas show.

So, each year, at Christ-mas(s) season,
Put on your 'Frosty' smile and Love,
To Sing, and Dance for God, the reason,
Celebrating, His Gift, from Above, with Love;

Jesus.

AMEN

Frosty started, almost like man,
God sent down to earth, a Flake,
What man can't do, Frosty can,
Bring Love to heart, for Jesus' sake.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/55995/

[navyblue]

NUCLEAR OPTION
By Arley Steinhour 112313

The Nuclear Option, now applied,
Run, and Duck, but we can't hide,
Constitution, wounded, certified,
Our leadership, has truly LIED.

Daniel Seven verse Twenty Five,
Might make us wish we're not alive,
Especially those, who try to strive,
Senate meat, now become's Endive.

Toss it, flip it, dash of salt,
Even blend it, like a malt,
Some thin, some fat, nobody's fault,
Great reward, in Power's Cult.

Constitution, now, unstable,
Now is swept, under the table,
Dumped in a box, under a Gable,
No more the power, of being Able.

"One World," be soon, in Faith and Rule,
Staining all, with what we call "Stool,"
Murder, Mayhem, Violence, the tool,
Refuse a demand, be dealt with most Cruel.

Only one way, may a soul Escape,
From Anti-Christ, and Spirit Rape,
Turn to Jesus, and He will Drape,
Not hide behind a lying Cape.

We know we're given, Salvation, and Home,
Without, Curse of Sin, no more to roam,
Through, God, the Son, our Protective Dome,
Everywhere else, is a Lake of Flaming Foam.

All we need do, is make One Choice,
Receiving God's Son, with demure voice,
Before, God, and Man, so Angels Rejoice,
Eternal Reward, before us Deploys.

AMEN

Only one choice leads to Heaven's Gate,
All other choices lead to Hell's Plate,
Throwing over an Eternal Sate,
Sin enthralls, most Repent, too late.
Archive & pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/56010/