Praise and Poetry by Arley

[Navyblue]

Learning Days Without End
By Arley Steinhour 081911

The School Year has begun anew,
Day time now does change;
Summer days were oh so few,
PC, Texting, Restricted sure is strange.

The common goal, is to 'Graduate,'
Freedom calls strong upon the heart;
Put away the books and writing slate,
Grown up Adult, be the favorite part.

Please open up your minds so clean,
Learn the lessons, as future dream;
From learning you no longer can wean,
Knowledge grows too fast, like white hot steam.

Some think there is no reason learning,
Computers do all they cannot;
Waste not the midnight oil burning,
When there's parties to be fought.

'Ennui' is what most folk become,
No 'Smarts' to save their day;
Singing and dancing, and eating a crumb,
Government determines their pay.

Those who learn well, shall excel,
in jobs with best of pay;
Some, venture in proprietorship,
To build on Free enterprise way.

Learn to think, Learn to Learn,
The mind is a wondrous tool;
Knowledge grows fast, no time to burn,
Fall behind, and look much the fool.

Learning don't stop once you 'graduate,'
Learn now, or after it is too late;
Each day of your life, add to Cranium Slate,
Mature with learning mind; be not the fool.
AMEN
I started this with school children in mind, but as I finished, realized that Bible knowledge also needed these words, considering the 'Time' we be in.
Yeee-Haaa!!! and AMEN, Going Home, just don't know quite when.

[Navyblue]

God Without Change
by Arley Steinhour 082211

My praise to God, I send to you,
Dear Jesus, our one and all;
God's Favor to us is always true,
In Him, through you we stand tall.

Each hour on Earth, represents twenty-four,
To God Prayer prayed, in each one;
Every hour of every day is His, forever more,
Worshiping Jesus and God is such fun.

We spin along, at rocket speed,
Feet planted firm on His Earth;
Look up to the sky to find God's seed
At the Right hand of God since birth.

So many say God's word is old,
Ignore the Old Folk they say;
Young Christians must be very bold,
So the strictness of age goes away.

Sadly it seems they don't know the Word,
We the People have one part to play;
Sons and Daughters, all in accord,
Living life, as God wants, His way.

If we could make God, and He did as we said,
We'd find our shoes on wrong feet;
He has the sandals we can't unlatch,
His blessings are sweeter than sweet.

How many times must He invite us,
To ask Him into our heart;
How many times must He sacrifice,
Before we know, in Him we be part.

Turn the cold dead heart to Him,
Let Him install new life in you;
Eternal life, through Jessie's stem,
Spirit filled, to Him be True.
AMEN

[Navyblue]

BAG of BEANS
By Arley Steinhour 082211

God made up this world, like a Sack of Beans,
That mankind represents;
Most are good, others be 'Mean-machines,'
But some have been Presidents.

Every kind of Bean is found within the Sack,
Sort of like this World of ours,
Yellow, Brown, White, Green or Black,
We all still look at the stars.

Some places, we call countries,
Demand a purity of Nation;
Pollution of color irregularities,
Can change one's Social station.

It matters not, the skill one offers,
Or they stand in honor, true;
Pigment rejected by the Scoffers,
Can put stigma on me or you.

God doesn't like separation,
or those who hate for naught;
He loves all, in every Nation,
On the Cross, we all were bought.

Redemption has a stipulation,
Like with Adam, Only One,
Accept Him, No reservation,
And be Eternally His Son.

Those who accept His offer,
Are Holy Spirit filled within;
Never answering to the Scoffer,
Justified by God, NO SIN.

AMEN

[Navyblue]

D C News
By Arley Steinhour 082311

Washington, the rock of ages,
Shaking and Quaking their fare;
Evacuated White house of Pages,
Without going anywhere.

An E Q, strength of 5 point 6,
Did make the eyeballs flap;
Fear and laughter pick-up sticks,
Let Satan take the Rap.

The Congressmen were out of town,
The quaking had no foe;
The shaking rattled all to frown,
Reaction wasn't slow.

News picture said a lawn chair,
Fell completely on its side;
Bent and damaged grass fare;
News worthy, Editor cried:

'Perhaps we've earned disaster care,
With extra on the side;
We have to stabilize that chair,
So constituents don't think we lied.

The folks way-out Nebraska way,
Won't mind paying part of bill;
So long as they can football play,
And have their Saturday thrill.'

A Senator, I believe, is rushing back to town;
In his case, a ton of Pork;
To bolster numbers, so re-election's sound,
They'll quit thinking him a dork.

Offered on the lighter side,
The world has gone insane;
Sadly, this offering ain't no joke,
As Noah cried, 'I's gonna RAIN.'

AMEN

PS, Tribulation:
My son brought home a puppy,
he dragged it through the gate;
before I could say, 'It might bite,'
my son found out, too Late.

Ponder, please, and Turn your heart to Jesus.

[Navyblue]

Waiting Line Blues
By Arley Steinhour 082511

In line waiting, in the waiting line,
I've been here for a while,
Folks around, having a gala time,
Not even standing single file.

I look about, at the other folk,
I do that often, now,
Those not in line think we are a joke,
And should be behind a plow.

Not many new folk join our crowd,
Some days a few walk away,
Address speakers, very loud,
Reporting, 'There is some delay.'

Departure time, they're just not sure,
I hear sniggering behind the mike,
They think we're sick, without a cure,
Not flying, we should take a hike.

The louder the speakers orate,
The rowdier, non-waiting-line crowd,
Hoots and chides don't dissipate,
Some of us start to pray out loud.

The stanchions, many, where we wait,
So many not yet in use,
There's room for everyone coming late,
Most have a lame excuse.

The thing most folk don't realize,
The 'Ride' don't even need land,
A new tool called 'Gate-Snatchicize,'
We're gone, before the lift of a hand.

Waiting area, will have new designation,
Just as soon as we are gone;
Folks waiting for Judgment condemnation,
To Lake of Fire, before too long.

Satan's lies have infiltrated,
Many Churches, and the Press,
Folks find the truth, belated,
After losing their Heaven Dress.

The time is oh-so-very short,
To turn the heart to Jesus,
Once tried, there is no other court,
Even Satan can't do as he pleases.

AMEN

[Navyblue]

Tare of Frustration
By Arley Steinhour 082611

Frustration does attack the heart,
So, we complain to you;
'Satan controls this world, in most part,
Knowing his end-time is due.

Insanity does seem to reign,
Good deeds be very few,
Events are loaded up with pain,
But, in the darkness, we still feel you.

The season is upon us,
All 'Stoppers' set aside;
Evil seems so pompous,
Most Christians want to hide.

Many feel Travail-frustration-hell,
And truly want so much to scream,
Your mortality, then, must ring the Bell,
What you suffered, makes ours naught but cream.

Your perfect life, mandated,
So you'd meet Redemption Price,
Frustrated?, we should be 'Elated,'
Praise to you, not once, but thrice.

You're standing right beside us,
As Tribulation does come on,
Satan's turn for 'Earthly-Circus,'
Tare's weeded, for Millennial Dawn.

With this understanding known,
Frustration flees far away,
Final dross becomes unknown,
To dawn, soon, Your Eternal Day.

AMEN

A great place for Christian Poetry, where I also blog, and read, would be for you to go to:
Cross Way Publication's Newest Poems and spend a year or so. My favorite, there, is Poet, Michael P. Johnson, blogging from UK (don't miss his (Mitzvah words)).

Today the promise, to what soon will be,
No hate nor pain nor raging sea;
Frustration is fed by Satan's spawn,
To make us believe God's Forest, is but a lawn.
AMEN

[Hannah]

Thanks Arley.

[Navyblue]

Thank you Hannah.

Submit to Jesus
By Arley Steinhour 082811

The Rapture not coming yet, won’t make a dent,
In the pockets of the grabbers, who don’t pay rent;

All will go on as it was yesterday,
Unless something dissolves one’s ability to pay.

Shock of shock’s Jesus will come for His Bride,
The mouths of dissenter’s, will hang open wide.

We cry out to all, to repent sinful deeds,
Few will listen, to what our God needs;

When called, He quickly moves into the heart,
Adopting and cleaning, like new, from the start.

He hangs out His Shingle, and you are in business,
Guiding and teaching to promote blessedness.

Blessedness, like what He places in you,
Others can have, more than a few.

Those who submit, to God, The Son,
Are blessed and Adopted, every one.

Life experience, may not change and be fun,
Suffering goes on, till the last heart is won.

Know this, however, the time is so near,
Joy should be ringing, with singing so clear.

Please look to Jesus, He's standing close by
To snatch up His Bride, and dry tear stained eye.

AMEN

PS
The day is coming, no one need miss,
the day that the Bride goes away;
Bridegroom arriving, snatching us up,
There with Him, where He is, we stay.
AMEN

[Navyblue]

What better place to start the count,
than upon God's Mt. Sinai,
Where Moses Knelt, and God Walked-about,
To seal the Apple of God's Eye.
AMEN

Counting the Days
By Arley Steinhour 090211

One One One, Son-of-a-gun.

Two Two Two, Just me and you.

Three Three Three, Hung on a Tree.

Four Four Four, Opened God's Door.

Five Five Five, Eternally Alive.

Six Six Six, Bag filled with Tricks.

Seven Seven Seven, Fly Home to Heaven.

Eight Eight Eight, Wedding Feast Great.

Nine Nine Nine, Satan pays the Fine.

Ten Ten Ten, Eternity, again.

AMEN

[Navyblue]

Holy Nose Win
By Arley Steinhour 090311

Lord God I come before you,
Prostrate, on my face,
You know that you do own a zoo,
If not, you'd better brace.

Insanity rules everywhere,
Few People left with active brain,
Impossible a thought to share,
Attempts do return much pain.

I know you know all that I speak,
I watch for gathering storm;
The stench of death in news, each week,
All events brings a greater worm.

Soon, it seems, the enemy of all
Will cross that invisible line,
Start the war that causes their fall,
Ezekiel thirty eight and thirty nine.

Israel doesn't yet understand,
Your focus is totally on them,
The shock they feel, then comprehend,
The Church is Snatched away, Ahem!

All alone, without a friend,
Jealousy, invoked at last
Last is First, First around the bend
Chosen People live in the past.

Waking up to Salvation Man,
Destroys many on the way,
Satan thinks He's won many a Fan,
Until his judgment day.

Trap is sprung, and Satan falls
Into Abyss, he goes,
A Thousand years where no one calls,
Jesus wins all, by a Holy Nose.

AMEN

PS:

With noses flared in calm debate, on how life on earth should live,
The good folk on the other side, have one thing for sure to give;
They yell and scream at everyone that they don't want to live;
Treating every 'NON-' they curse, just like an old 'sows ear purse.'
Loving everyone they see, until for you, someone calls a hearse.
AMEN

[Navyblue]

Flight 93
By: Arley W. Steinhour 2002

You wake up in the morning
an ordinary Joe;
preparing for the routine of
a young man on the go.

Shower, shave, and brush your teeth,
you pack your bag to leave;
kiss your wife and kids goodbye,
brush talcum from your sleeve.

The taxi ride is routine,
to where you’ll go aloft;
as sun is lighting up the sky,
where clouds are white and soft.

You feel the plane lift off the ground,
and preflight jitters fade;
Great wife, kids, and job you think,
‘I really have it made.’

Minutes into flight time,
you get the dreaded news;
five hijackers, they be haters,
of our Christians and Jews.

The message from the bad guys is,
“Be smart, against us not a hand“;
You know that throughout history,
they’ll just fly somewhere and land.

They’ll rant and rave excessively,
and ransom they’ll demand;
or call for the release from jail
some members of their band.

Your nervousness is soon replaced
with total abject fear;
As flight crew and the pilot
are pushed roughly to the rear.

The pilot says that something’s wrong,
the plane a bad guy now will fly;
and if he doesn’t do it right,
then everyone will die.

The cell phone in your pocket,
is handy and might work;
you call your wife to tell her
you’ve been hijacked by a jerk.

She tells you with a deep concern,
Twin Towers have been struck;
and then you know beyond a doubt,
you’ve all ran out of luck.

The plane is going Southeast,
D.C. is on that track;
the aircraft is a weapon;
You have to take it back.

The plane has over fifty souls,
D.C. has thousands more;
the choice is simply who must die
from this heinous act of war.

You tell your wife you love her,
but you have a job to do;
you’re going to take the airplane back,
and subdue this crazy few.

You tell her that you may not live,
as something may go wrong;
these people don’t want money,
they want to kill our freedom song.

The last words that your wife will hear
brands freedoms corporate soul;
the battle cry, no better made,
than what you said: “Let’s Roll.”

A spectator you no longer are,
your hearts hear drum and fife;
as something must be done, and quick,
to save more innocent life.

Into freedoms history,
and shirking not your charge;
Bad guys lose, good guys win,
the price is very large.

You brought us all together,
that very fateful day;
the standard raised for “Patriot,”
you few have set this way.

Rest well you friends of country,
God bless, and keep your souls;
for patriots die only once;
cowards live in holes!

Amen

May what the passengers of Flt 93 did that day be the standard to be met, as they did; the same standard stated by Jesus: "No one shows greater love than when he lays down his life for his friends." Flight 93 Hero's saved many 'Friends.'

[Navyblue]

To CRY or Not to CRY
By Arley Steinhour 090411

Why do I set here filled with sorrow,
When I know where I will go,
He's coming, one soon tomorrow,
To take us through the Rapture show.

We should be dancing in the street,
With so little time to go,
Yet, hearts are heavy, incomplete,
For those that miss the show.

The Bible doesn't say straight out,
'Salvation also flies that day,'
As Rapture turns things round-a-bout,
Works through Faith, then pays the play.

They that survive the Seven,
Without 'Mark of the Beast,'
Faithfully can work their way to Heaven,
But must forego the Wedding Feast.

A Thousand years He'll Rule on Earth,
To clean man's Dross filled heart,
Under Iron Rod, they'll stoke the hearth,
For when Tares and Wheat forever part.

We know that Satan is released,
One last time for him to lie and try,
Condemned, forever, Time is ceased,
Eternal then, be God's Blue Sky.

Events, today, are happening,
Faster than we can blink an eye,
Believers, up in Heaven, sing,
Never more, in Heaven, hear another cry.

Please ponder what I'm saying,
Give your heart to Christ the King,
Or else forever be paying,
While those who did, forever Sing.

AMEN

[Navyblue]

Knees Like Tree Bark
By Arley Steinhour 090511

We need to have fallen upon our knees
so much the skin looks like bark on trees

Knees worn until you might want to cry,
With heart full of Him though, you'll never die.

We spread His word, about Free Salvation,
Completely now, cross every Nation;

Yet, peoples hate Christians everywhere,
The news, God Loves them, they don't care.

'Man can make a better place,
while throwing God's ways in His face;

Becoming more and more like gods;'
which will force the use of His 'Iron Rod.'

Soon, I feel, our knees will heal,
In the time it takes to serve a meal;

Mansions built, Table set,
What, you mean we aren't there yet?

Many people left behind,
Good and bad, every kind;

those who 'Chose Him,' seconds too late,
now have Seven years to wait.

Jesus won't make any one Repent,
Even though He paid the 'Price,' not 'rent.'

Waste not that terrible price He paid,
Accept His Gift, before it can't be Played.

AMEN

[Navyblue]

Change of Moods
By Arley Steinhour 090611

I hate to author poems, about the times,
Looking like a nightmare, even if it rhymes.

People killing people, Nations in demise,
Sharia law expects to win, without compromise.

Israel hated far worse, than Hitler's Anti-Semitism,
Standing naked, to the world, on one side of the chasm.

Proud, and stiff necked, as we all can see,
God still loves Israel, and He will keep her free.

Satan knows, his time is short, About Seven years to go,
Before Jesus places him in chains, and locks him far below.

Tribulation Seven plays, before Jesus comes back to earth,
Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men, nothing like His Birth.

The tears are drying, from my heart,
With future Kingdom on its way,
Those left behind will play their part,
Unto Eternal Day

Chase not the lusts of Satan's lies,
Chase Christ, our God and King,
Hell holds Angels, who fell from the skies,
With Jesus, we will dance and sing.

My sadness, now, has passed away,
My Joy returns as Sun-shine bright,
Mortal pain subsides, in Jesus' Sway,
Eternal day reigns, with no more Night.

AMEN

[Navyblue]

Labor Day Blues
By Arley Steinhour 090811

Once upon a time ago,
there was this place to live,
where people, even creatures,
surrendered all there was to give;

To have a part in being Free,
to work, and Praise their God,
Restrictions meted, almost none,
Those out of line, received the rod.

There seemed to be no borders,
The 'Welcome' sign always out,
Don't mess with unwritten standard
No hostile folk found about.

There was, of course, some differences,
but, most problems came to naught,
Tolerations ruled the day
Few problems need to be fought.

And then something began to happen,
Greed had settled in,
Bosses didn't treat their folk good,
Workers seen as sin;

Work was hard, pay was low,
no one had a place to go,
People kept on coming,
God looked down and cried about that below.

The workers banded together,
to have the strength to resist,
Pressure from the Businessmen
for workers to work and desist.

They called themselves a Union,
Coming together to save the day,
Simple things they wanted,
Agreement set, new way to play.

No longer does the working man
need suffer trial and loss,
Owner and worker, hand in hand,
So long as worker knew who was boss.

That seemed to have a Golden Ring,
Production and profit went through the roof,
Until the worker demanded too much a raise,
Cooperation got sick and died, like, Poof!

Adversaries, now they be
Both hating each the other
Even families were broken up,
Brother against his Brother.

Profit margin dwindled,
Business began to die,
Quality of product,
Bad, the only way not to lie.

Decades passed, until at last,
'Gap' between was way too far,
Rich stayed in their Ivory Tower,
Many of the Poor, lived at the bar.

Greed had never left the scene,
It disguised itself in Green,
Any who found the thievery,
Was made part of the Green Machine.

In the Year Two Thousand Eight
The Roof came crashing in,
Financial markets everywhere,
Birthed a Program worse than SIN;

Our Government threw MONEY
About, like Christmas Tinsel Tin,
Bailing out Big Business, not funny,
Feeding more of the Greed within.

What caused this Great Fiasco,
every body wants to know,
The Rich refusing to treat men right,
Or the worker demanding too much dough?

The problems are on-going,
There's little folks can do,
But watch the Blame Game being played
As our Grand-children we all do Screw.

I close my long, long, tirade
With a plea to God, on High,
Send please, Jesus our Messiah,
Without Sin, we still might learn to fly.

AMEN

[Navyblue]

Prelude
May we never ever forget,
May our youngsters understand;
Many peoples hate us,
Since we live in a God blessed land.

But, if we don't protect our Faith and freedom,
But, allow encroachments in our Faith and Laws,
Another way of life will rule,
We'll end up in Satan's Jaws.
TRUTH.



Ten Years a Billion Tears
By Arley Steinhour 090911

Ten years ago, I woke up late,
I had no place to go;
Thought I'd catch a news update,
Like a flood, the news did flow.

They spoke about an accident,
Tower One had just been struck,
Hole in building, poring flame unspent,
Many lives had run out of luck.

Fire trucks, Police cars, sirens wailing
Halted below the carnage in the sky;
In the building dash responders hailing
Come this way, aiding injured on the fly.

Then movement closing on Tower Two,
Another killer accident??
Slowly dawning on their minds,
This is done with murderous intent!

Focused in on South Tower,
Flying lower to the ground,
Plane two, plowed into Tower two
Flame erupted all around.

Not only here, but in D.C.
Plane crashed into Pentagon,
Then the story of Flight Ninety-Three
Confirmed our World was up-side-down.

So many Ode's to Heroic acts,
These words couldn't make a dent,
Some tales, have twisted many facts,
The Evil in hearts, it seems, will not repent.

Remember that a way of life
caused hatred to take those souls;
Hero's can only lose one life,
While cowards, live in Holes.

AMEN

I fly Twin Towers, as I do my flag, with pride in my U.S.A. In the hopes God comes very soon, and takes we Christians, all away. He doesn't do it for what we've done, Oh, no, we wouldn't qualify;
He does it to make Israel jealous enough, to accept Messiah, Jesus, who they did slay.
Takes Seven years, but Jesus wins the day, when Jew and Gentile, in one Heaven,
Eternally, may Play.
AMEN

[Navyblue]

Perfect Date to Choose
By Arley Steinhour 091011

The date is what I call perfect
and can't let it pass me by,
Nine Ten Eleven, correct
a great day to live or die.

Tomorrow celebrates another day
when many people met the 'Man,'
Suddenly, and horribly,
God welcomed with wave of hand.

Most, I fear, would pass on through
Some, would pass to His Right,
Most will never know, like the few,
His Love and Joy both day and night.

There is a way of living,
filled to the brim with hate,
for any person not conforming
nor accept that Satanic fate.

Messiah came to earth one day
to fill all hearts with Love,
He even took our debt to pay,
As incarnate God from Above.

Two Thousand years have followed,
Many Wars, and Trials of loss,
The choice of who we follow,
Saves some, the rest are Dross.

The Gentile time is almost over,
Salvation through Grace to end,
Once the Gate is tightly shut,
On Works, Salvation does depend.

Please search your heart most closely,
Have you given your all to Him?
If not, you'd better, very quickly
Give your all, and do not skim.

AMEN


I don't wish to push the panic button, only wake you to the truth, Life can be light, or weigh a ton, and insanity kill faster, than pulling a baby tooth. May they all be with the Lord, who died that fate-filled day. AMEN

[Navyblue]

I received a poem today, that falls in line with the Class of 56 reunion, to be held in a week, Sept 23, thru 25. I had planned to attempt to pen something, but this one already covered the aging of a class, so well, I just had to use it, with minor modification. Hope you enjoy.


THE REUNION CLASS '56'
Author Unknown
(Some editing by Arley)

Every five years, as summertime nears,
An announcement arrives in the mail,
'Our reunion is planned; it'll be really grand;
Make plans to attend without fail.'

I'll never forget the first time we met;
We tried very hard to impress.
We drove fancy cars, smoked big cigars,
And wore our most elegant dress.

Quite an affair, most all the class there,
Held at a fancy hotel.
We wined, we dined, and acted refined,
We all thought the evening went swell.

The men all conversed about who would be first,
To achieve great fortune and fame;
The spouses described life in fine houses,
Lying also, about looking the same.

The homecoming queen, who once had been lean,
Now weighed in at one-ninety-six.
The jocks who were there had lost most of their hair,
And cheerleaders could no longer do kicks.

No one had heard about the class nerd,
Who'd be guiding spacecraft to the moon;
Or poor little Jane, who'd always been plain;
Having married a shipping tycoon.

The boy we'd decreed 'most apt to succeed,'
Was serving ten years in the pen,
While the one voted 'least' now was a priest;
Just shows you can err now and then.

They awarded a prize to one of the guys,
Who seemed to have aged the least;
Another was given to the grad who had driven,
The farthest to be at the feast.

They took a class picture, a curious mixture,
Of beehives, crew cuts and loud ties.
Tall, short, or skinny, the style was the mini;
You never saw so many thighs.

Twenty-fifth get-together, no one cared whether,
They impressed their classmates or not.
The mood was informal, a whole lot more normal;
By this time we'd all gone to pot.

It was held out-of-doors, at the lake shores;
Eating hamburgers, coleslaw, and beans.
Then most of us lay around in the shade,
In our comfortable T-shirts and jeans.

The fiftieth year, it was abundantly clear,
We were definitely over the hill.
Those who weren't dead had to crawl out of bed,
And be home in time for their pill.

And now I can't wait; they've set the date;
Our sixtieth comes soon, I am told.
It should be a ball, they've rented the hall,
At the Shady Rest Home for the old.

Repairs have been made, on my hearing aid;
My pacemaker turned up on high.
The wheelchair is oiled, teeth have been boiled;
I bought a new wig, and glass eye.

I'm feeling quite hearty, and ready to party,
Gonna dance until dawn's early light.
It'll be lots of fun, But I hope there is one
Other person, who makes it that night.

Life is a blessing, to still drive a car,
Praise God, we have made it this far.

AMEN

[Navyblue]

Part of the Story

By Arley Steinhour 092011

There is a God who came to Earth,
to walk among mankind
Came like all, at day of Birth
Prophet Promise here to find.

Two doves, the Dedication Payment,
The family was quite poor,
Wise-men honors, not yet rent,
Name and Blessing soon known and more.

Soon, danger filled the morning,
The King did seek his life,
'Off to Egypt,' Angel's warning,
'I'll call, when there's much less strife.'

The Magi gifts, helped Joseph pay the way,
As they lived safe in Egypt land;
Tools in hand wood-working, receiving daily pay,
Until the Angel called home the Godly band.

Not much is taught about his life,
This Jesus, grew, and learned;
At age of twelve, at Temple, lost,
Did teach the Priests, they learned.

Famous words were uttered there,
on Temple steps, His words did shout
Joseph and Mary queried Him to share,
'His Father's business He'd been about.'

From that magic moment,
Not much more is read;
Cousin John baptizing,
Jesus comes, the living bread.

Temptation faced, defeated,
Satan cringed away in shame,
Jesus formed his Apostolic group,
to implant His Godly Name.

I do not tell you anything,
You didn't already know;
I simply came to praise his name,
Soon, so soon, He Locks Satan far below.

AMEN

(Postscript)
When God was but a child of twelve,
How hard it must have been,
To experience His mortality,
Without giving sway to sin.

Stories say He killed a man,
Shrunk an arm or two;
Extra Biblical writings, they,
Satan's lies to me and you?

[Navyblue]

Truth and Consequences
By Arley Steinhour 092111

I watched a video, today,
That left my eyes in tears,
A teaching where God turns away
To focus only on those of ancient years.

The nations of the BC times,
Do play a 'Last Day's' game,
Not one Christian nation rhymes,
With ancient, or modern name.

The teaching is convincing,
Book, Chapter, Verse, read well,
My lips were numb with pinching,
My fists had begun to swell.

What it boils down to
Our Western thought is wrong,
Jew and Christian Faithful
Forced to hear Muslim's hostile song.

Hatred of all Israeli
Christian also, too,
Satan has a payday,
Killing more than a few.

According to the teacher,
It's clear as it can be,
Put away the Western thought,
Think Eastern, and you see;

All the players fall in line,
The old names change to new,
Country after country fits,
Tribulation fits like a shoe.

One thing the teacher does see,
That agrees with Prophecy,
False god looses, our God Wins,
For them, Torment, Eternally.

Two Thousand years of being wrong,
Without Truth obtaining space,
Singing in error, off key song
Puts one in prayer-closet place.

I'll spend much time in your word,
To see where we went wrong,
Right or Wrong, when I find it,
I'll Praise you with Heart-filled song.

I ask you for your guidance, Lord
I need it portion doubled,
To understand and know your heart,
So my heart is no longer troubled.

AMEN