His Timely Approach !!

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Spring-time’s here…

as gazelle frolic…

in the dell.

Blossoms pink…

flora…

on the trees.

——

Sleigh ridden trails…

fade away…

with melting snow –

turning wheel

to  replace.

Oh, to have known…

of those day’s !

——

Sunshine beams…

effortlessly warms…

with heated strobe.

Touching all –

as to revel re-birth.

——

Folded hands…

found on white peak

mountain’s grand…

see green a-gain !!

Winter’s chill melts, fades,

as months, weeks, day’s,

gilded, spring-like, surprise…

Eternal Fruit Sown

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The fruit of the cherry and the apple tree lends its fruit but for awhile for us.

But it is in His death on Calvary that an eternal home we can, all, anticipate.

Save for His blood to wash us clean none of us by hap-stance will enter in.

It isn’t what you’ve done or haven’t done it is if you’ve understood His grace.

It’s walking in peace knowing nothing can ever separate you from His love.

Considering the fact He died, on the cross, not to condemn but to save you.

Does not all fruit rot once it hits the ground? Even the beauty of this earth,

in itself, is deteriorating. The tree that produces the fruit can only survive for

so long before facing death, as well. And you, you will go to hell if you do

not acknowledge His love sacrifice.

Fairer thy love

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Fairer thy love
to me, oh Lord.
Fairer thy love
to me.

Then ten thousand
men, on even
more chariots;
fairer thy love
to me.

Deeper thy fountain
it flows, dear Lord.
Deeper thy fountain
it flows.
More then the
waves of the seas
you know
that froth to and fro.
His love doth flow
to me.

Higher thy way’s
are yours, oh Lord.
Higher thy way’s
are yours.
More than most
men know,
it seems;
more then
most men know.

Bless me as
this time is
past.
Till I’m home
with You alas.
At home,
with Thee at-last.

~ personal photo ~

~ An early poem of mine written two years ago ~

Just Fly

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God made me to fly.
With wings I’ll soar
way up high.
In looking, there’s all
He made for me.
A truly beautiful site indeed.

My eye’s they linger, also, on Thee.
My wonderful Lord who’s kept me.
My wonderful Lord
who cares for and loves me.

He gives me wings to fly.
With wings I’ll fly so high.

It’s not a lofty road I’ve traveled.
But more a humble man’s path.
If it should lead me home at last.
To Him all glory be.
To Him all glory be.

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~ personal photo ~ 

An early write of two years ago

Mary’s Holy Child

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Opal borne not of clay but purity.
Mother Mary cradled a holy child.
His pathway sore for our delivery.

Easter’s lamb bled for our rebirth.
Gethsemane engraved in misery.
His blood to redeem all mankind.

Save that we will accept His plan.
Personalize His offering earnestly.
Easter iridescent of oaths arisen.

~ personal photo ~