tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29588545227146659132024-03-05T20:27:10.789-08:00Spirit Hawk RamblingsWayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-64867767876597382042013-03-16T10:53:00.001-07:002013-03-16T10:53:58.166-07:00Red Slippers<a href="http://animoto.com/play/8qBz53M0cmcl0RAzpJLAXg#.UUSxn1gBLdI.blogger">Red Slippers</a>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-86464712975256462092013-03-14T11:29:00.001-07:002013-03-14T11:29:51.195-07:00Jack Drown Her Memory<a href="http://youtu.be/aBy_MY7q5l0"> http://youtu.be/aBy_MY7q5l0</a>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-82255170263881879742013-03-14T11:00:00.001-07:002013-03-14T12:39:03.282-07:00Where Are You Tonight (Lyrics)<br />
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Where Are You Tonight?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlFrlQWiLNccPAdfB89f0ujqfvMdoK8MAy3gu2mfTFUlSzjf4s4biGNlftLrOzfwC-XzJ4uRY_StCDVAmcq-lt7ZlfnmknylHeO3my0mDK0RmGYhrf54z8lxWHAoKabz_c3gqSmKRlCML/s1600/thumbnailCAP3BAD5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlFrlQWiLNccPAdfB89f0ujqfvMdoK8MAy3gu2mfTFUlSzjf4s4biGNlftLrOzfwC-XzJ4uRY_StCDVAmcq-lt7ZlfnmknylHeO3my0mDK0RmGYhrf54z8lxWHAoKabz_c3gqSmKRlCML/s1600/thumbnailCAP3BAD5.jpg" /></a></div>
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Where are you tonight?</div>
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Oh, where are you tonight?</div>
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Darling I miss you so; why did you go?</div>
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If you were here, I believe in my heart,</div>
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We could set it right.</div>
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Girl, I miss you so;</div>
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I just wish I knew, why you had to go.</div>
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Where are you tonight?</div>
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That last day we held hands,</div>
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I was on my knees;</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVsFBoeleYGa_SsxsTqwi-Lko9ENIX72au6jyUGA2tOReEPJMVB4hcfZmr-ReYKlzLFEfYCU17bA9VKQ3WAcgyAH_lN3LomNOHHnl0Bp_G8Ca0hJoXFsvR3iLzSfUBznJFTkWZQh69JSo/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnVsFBoeleYGa_SsxsTqwi-Lko9ENIX72au6jyUGA2tOReEPJMVB4hcfZmr-ReYKlzLFEfYCU17bA9VKQ3WAcgyAH_lN3LomNOHHnl0Bp_G8Ca0hJoXFsvR3iLzSfUBznJFTkWZQh69JSo/s320/011.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Sweet lilac on the breeze;</div>
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I asked for your hand.</div>
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Why wouldn’t you answer me?</div>
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Why did your heart freeze?</div>
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Baby I loved you; I wanted to be yours forever,</div>
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But you wouldn’t say that you love me</div>
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(Chorus)</div>
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why do I have to live with this broken heart?</div>
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I may never know.</div>
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I only know I miss you tonight;</div>
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Darling, yes, I miss you so;</div>
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Where are you, tonight?</div>
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If you came back to me tonight</div>
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I’d do everything in my power to set it right</div>
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Darling, I wish I knew where you were tonight.</div>
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Your leaving destroyed my whole life.</div>
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Where are you tonight?</div>
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<br /></div>
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Our love had those times, both good and bad,</div>
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I can’t forget all we had,</div>
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And no matter what I do, I’ll never forget her.</div>
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She brought sunshine into each day.</div>
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The last time I saw her, she was walking away.</div>
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Now where is my baby tonight?</div>
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(Repeat chorus)</div>
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©JD Couch and Jerriann Law(3-13-2013)</div>
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<br /></div>
Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-64302327680078083452013-01-12T19:59:00.002-08:002013-02-05T12:53:37.627-08:00Leon, the Flyer-Cat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1j2aCscKomL1evPD0Jm6Ew5EiJekNsnY1nYWfqS7cNkjcvKzLKpxLNc9feO5qTD0Ftw-edtWWiVQ1e8AneNE0R9PSVlonrQSRimdqMjV3PrXszS2u03-WW10xBOjrRYlE0ykeJnUGrHe7/s1600/1175_451424638246658_857230261_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1j2aCscKomL1evPD0Jm6Ew5EiJekNsnY1nYWfqS7cNkjcvKzLKpxLNc9feO5qTD0Ftw-edtWWiVQ1e8AneNE0R9PSVlonrQSRimdqMjV3PrXszS2u03-WW10xBOjrRYlE0ykeJnUGrHe7/s400/1175_451424638246658_857230261_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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My Master Leo da Vinci always dreamed of flying as the birds fly...he also has a mean sense of humor as you can see, for it is I, Leon, who became his assistant, the one who tries out all his 'near impossible' inventions, and since I only weigh three pounds...not much different than some birds... he says, "You are ideal, my furry friend; set forth, leap and fly...I give you the ability to do it...plus a helmet, so you don't bust your noggin, if you tumble."<br />
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He speaks Italian...I won't try to speak that tongue...my rough tongue is for licking my fur and for lapping up milk. I do understand more than you might think. But after all, if I were to speak...my utterings would be in catspeak...that's what I am, you see; a feline juvenile or kitten...meow.<br />
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<br />Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-56038273640982266722012-10-29T01:26:00.002-07:002013-01-12T20:20:03.969-08:00The Colonel's Secret<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdB1ob8Cu10NrNdLs9ibWVxwJFtnpTWj6Hcm4HFy_cKfeTMUQ8JDhymqlWqRXWkLLtUAeNXZ2TwXGaU4C3LAVI23kUibZLSpdTrV8hGHJUHx3PedUAHYZRIxnvznALo3d9OLs9zm4BI3p/s1600/383417_351951738225341_725412379_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdB1ob8Cu10NrNdLs9ibWVxwJFtnpTWj6Hcm4HFy_cKfeTMUQ8JDhymqlWqRXWkLLtUAeNXZ2TwXGaU4C3LAVI23kUibZLSpdTrV8hGHJUHx3PedUAHYZRIxnvznALo3d9OLs9zm4BI3p/s400/383417_351951738225341_725412379_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Passing by the eerie green weather-boarded house, locally known in the neighborhood as Colonel Neil Coxgrove's Mansion, in the fine city of Henderson, Kentucky, was an every day affair, much to the chagrin of Shelley Braddock, age fourteen and in the eighth grade. She had to travel past the house every day, on the way to and from Seventh Street School. And every time, she passed by, she would wonder why the house had 'fangs'...sometimes, she would pass by on the opposite side of the street, because from there, it was more evident the house had its own character face. She had to wonder just what was behind the thinking of the original owner who had paid some architect top dollar to build the place; and even when it had been brand new; surely there had been towns-people who remarked on the unusual design. Just how had they taken to it...when there were several fine homes in the area; some were Queen Anne Style, some were Italian Style, and there was even a building up town that was made totally of brick and no wood was in its construction, at all.</div>
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Shelley's teacher was Mrs. Soaper, and her husband's family was one of the oldest and most influential families, even among the founding fathers of the town, which had its start in 1765 by Col. Groghan, when he passed by there to the Wabash. Next came Captain Gordan who had military-surveyed the Ohio in 1776, intentionally planned to giving land warrants to the Virginia soldiers who had served in the French Wars and were to be portioned land in the 'western waters.' The surveying parties had begun their work as far back as 1774, by groups of men who later came to settle the region. Trailblazers Col. Floyd, Hancock Taylor, and James Douglas and two parties of hunters settled Harrodstown, later Harrodsburg, mid center of the region; and it had been on June 16, 1774, Daniel Boone being present and had helped build log cabins, laying a clear hold on the land that would become Kentucky. </div>
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But the area that would later become Henderson, was nearly barren of trees and more bog than anything, and no Indians claimed it, although there was a fairly large Shawnee-town on the opposite side of the river.</div>
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The county of Henderson was established in December of 1798. Tracts of land were being sold for the magnificent price of 75 cents an acre, and the whole town soon was laid out; all tracts together were sold for less than 2000 dollars.</div>
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John J. Audubon was a man who came to the region, moving there around 1810, but becoming disenchanted after a few years; more interested in drawing birds,than being a business man, he later headed south to New Orleans. Mrs. Soaper had recently told them this in class near the end of school, as part of the local History and Geography classes, in preparing them for the Sesquicentennial later that year. She said the best way to learn to love these subjects was to start close to home, and they had plenty to be proud about.</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVOxdNR8hTMbGlPpIiSv7Oc0h-KD5YZZnqLeCUYS7qowGpOvbg8l3k5BBlAb0Js1iV4Iv1YPffUKylx1WP6bWZ6-8PTT6_JilBMC7AtoXW3j8vMhNxUEq0AhnOFs03I8zMg9CdQBg0G_g/s1600/165648092515470637_b9H6Afqf_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVOxdNR8hTMbGlPpIiSv7Oc0h-KD5YZZnqLeCUYS7qowGpOvbg8l3k5BBlAb0Js1iV4Iv1YPffUKylx1WP6bWZ6-8PTT6_JilBMC7AtoXW3j8vMhNxUEq0AhnOFs03I8zMg9CdQBg0G_g/s200/165648092515470637_b9H6Afqf_c.jpg" width="156" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PICNICKING Down by the Riverside</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO8DnH5OYBK1BOlGsaoRjPB84ZI90hTGsPh7qipvgNNl_tpD7R398ViGdtE-YEW4QU5UPjF3cXbkPDI4FZlM8m9zqijB3w3lepDkJ6zq4F3TtJkeNKgjmKs6CVnDlrQs_ZP-T13Qay_xXW/s1600/vfiles27731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO8DnH5OYBK1BOlGsaoRjPB84ZI90hTGsPh7qipvgNNl_tpD7R398ViGdtE-YEW4QU5UPjF3cXbkPDI4FZlM8m9zqijB3w3lepDkJ6zq4F3TtJkeNKgjmKs6CVnDlrQs_ZP-T13Qay_xXW/s200/vfiles27731.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqszkSMCxMHOXtX53l_avTGRgJZbYINc0QhxPLxg3C69JYj1UtcmveHxerlyROWeMDYKWsmrsv-FnWl3Nvm2FaYzNaTzxuCDmpF_l_NkLpBIvfZjdq1lvFZWlgjXo5zWv7C8wKJjRMFsGi/s1600/vfiles15650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqszkSMCxMHOXtX53l_avTGRgJZbYINc0QhxPLxg3C69JYj1UtcmveHxerlyROWeMDYKWsmrsv-FnWl3Nvm2FaYzNaTzxuCDmpF_l_NkLpBIvfZjdq1lvFZWlgjXo5zWv7C8wKJjRMFsGi/s200/vfiles15650.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OHIO River and Henderson, Ky.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXhAtCntO1M5iq5iQjSs-cAmSMzmuznAV_i2C8KPD12qX-3nPhkZwGOa6Hq0qHRv40ZMYfKOxJRYyug9ZKmuIT2_q-rMH0DBgC8NSzQXGKa47sExGBbFMyHv0micpOpT1Kq2aXyqCLGXQn/s1600/cfiles4660.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXhAtCntO1M5iq5iQjSs-cAmSMzmuznAV_i2C8KPD12qX-3nPhkZwGOa6Hq0qHRv40ZMYfKOxJRYyug9ZKmuIT2_q-rMH0DBgC8NSzQXGKa47sExGBbFMyHv0micpOpT1Kq2aXyqCLGXQn/s400/cfiles4660.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rrmbs9yLOjBsYFjcD0OZstyzjg_9XCLvk7DwnJUz-EvpPGjy-_RvHSPMormJJFP2YUu7Kyqv_e1VQfB5qRP4fuDN66K5cDQ3a1xWn99s96cpNna6xfmHgtBm2JJewOFSFXDcHPmIdkAi/s1600/john-james-audubon-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rrmbs9yLOjBsYFjcD0OZstyzjg_9XCLvk7DwnJUz-EvpPGjy-_RvHSPMormJJFP2YUu7Kyqv_e1VQfB5qRP4fuDN66K5cDQ3a1xWn99s96cpNna6xfmHgtBm2JJewOFSFXDcHPmIdkAi/s1600/john-james-audubon-1.jpg" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rrmbs9yLOjBsYFjcD0OZstyzjg_9XCLvk7DwnJUz-EvpPGjy-_RvHSPMormJJFP2YUu7Kyqv_e1VQfB5qRP4fuDN66K5cDQ3a1xWn99s96cpNna6xfmHgtBm2JJewOFSFXDcHPmIdkAi/s1600/john-james-audubon-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">There was an Audubon city park by the river as well as a larger Audubon Mills park with the castle-like museum with its drawings of birds and other items of interest for view there. It was quite an attraction, and people from miles away would come just to see the John J. Audubon park, and take in other points of interest, depending on what time of the year they chose to visit. It was said with pride that he got his start right there in Henderson, before he went on to other places and later published his folio books with his magnificent birds, many of which were of Kentucky origin.</a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYVFUp72erQl0K7jUIlkY4Z3USE1MR0ys3wUbvQHShTGGexQAGwNgIMYZoMHzMzG1InotB7vKzlq2f2SwuNIiQFUZYY4vqP7l3vXYc3FiZ0hy3yZrF30vBjiCqHTY0FzKkpkStTDzd1dR8/s1600/400px-Audubon_Mill_at_Henderson_in_Kentucky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYVFUp72erQl0K7jUIlkY4Z3USE1MR0ys3wUbvQHShTGGexQAGwNgIMYZoMHzMzG1InotB7vKzlq2f2SwuNIiQFUZYY4vqP7l3vXYc3FiZ0hy3yZrF30vBjiCqHTY0FzKkpkStTDzd1dR8/s400/400px-Audubon_Mill_at_Henderson_in_Kentucky.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John J. Audubon's mill</td></tr>
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It was 1963, and the Year of the Sesquicentennial, a hundred and seventy-five years since the founding of the county and its town. There were plans to celebrate big time, with the local Barbecue festival aiming to serve their best recipes of beef and pork and mutton and goat. The German families would also have their Germanfest, and people were encouraged to dress in outfits if they wanted to participate in the costume contest; with music and dancing, food and pasties, and games galore, including a best fisherman contest.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3adnHyFELxRC4gS-muVGP2hla7Bi2nZu7H6lZpAei5lDug0wgNBXF7Jc90TRsDn1AMtHLeM5A0ZI0vzPrbyiP_k6XesSzjvWwad2Tbw2nYiUqrSzcOVEEFf22NFNsxLCyyNLzNL-orAzU/s1600/201747258277199245_r9pPXRX7_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3adnHyFELxRC4gS-muVGP2hla7Bi2nZu7H6lZpAei5lDug0wgNBXF7Jc90TRsDn1AMtHLeM5A0ZI0vzPrbyiP_k6XesSzjvWwad2Tbw2nYiUqrSzcOVEEFf22NFNsxLCyyNLzNL-orAzU/s320/201747258277199245_r9pPXRX7_c.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3z-vH1hFuCLbbz3OVAUSvZxmwOz9WsShrp5Z36HelkTkJxE5ci-iYBGP4G22YRPPozpifi1H_Tj-9lc_dswDg9Dkibb1iIzke-PLV3L-1Kz9pO93nQ_TuNn2CuqWWFgtlkc-4lnXNkQiM/s1600/Kentucky_AudubonStatePark-200_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3z-vH1hFuCLbbz3OVAUSvZxmwOz9WsShrp5Z36HelkTkJxE5ci-iYBGP4G22YRPPozpifi1H_Tj-9lc_dswDg9Dkibb1iIzke-PLV3L-1Kz9pO93nQ_TuNn2CuqWWFgtlkc-4lnXNkQiM/s200/Kentucky_AudubonStatePark-200_small.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWrZXXrbsw894-aEkUL0Sxc2WDPN30SXZfnX1im6G-TEMmaSAuEH_QigQ1FBDQKNGtJq6UUqC3qjTziCW7T3jgfE28nDt_z0rzPFstddvBw_it9zTCVL784NKtKWO8g9lZmrh0hy-aAq8/s1600/Kentucky_AudubonStatePark_TheAudubon-200_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWrZXXrbsw894-aEkUL0Sxc2WDPN30SXZfnX1im6G-TEMmaSAuEH_QigQ1FBDQKNGtJq6UUqC3qjTziCW7T3jgfE28nDt_z0rzPFstddvBw_it9zTCVL784NKtKWO8g9lZmrh0hy-aAq8/s200/Kentucky_AudubonStatePark_TheAudubon-200_small.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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Anything that was important in the community would be on display</div>
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in window shops or on the streets, for viewing, and for buying,</div>
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and just in general to share with the visitors; a big turn-out was expected. </div>
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In late summer,it would be sponsored, and from the riverfront to Elm Street,<br />
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people would make the Walking tour, taking in the sites, the yard sales, the antique cars, </div>
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the mules on display and for sale, also horses, and pedigree dogs and puppies,</div>
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cats and kittens for sale, authors would have their books for sale sat up near the courthouse </div>
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where it was the shadiest, and venders would be everywhere. There would be homemade root beer for sale, </div>
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and red creme soda and pink lemonade, along with Coca-cola and Royal Crown cola, and Double Cola, and the Nehi flavors, as well as many other drinks, including coffee and tea.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSI4reEj26nzcl2DM6iYENpisovhLszzKzr1Ckp2_72z9RX4-VkAtaFSep2zdV3YV4ceEn-s6uCaL_qZyD4t5R6O9i9ezTtZqk6uA2C6Y6W8yrJ1OVT9JRqtq1Eil43G-JvrvpbVSv_VUH/s1600/13489558-delicious-bbq-ribs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSI4reEj26nzcl2DM6iYENpisovhLszzKzr1Ckp2_72z9RX4-VkAtaFSep2zdV3YV4ceEn-s6uCaL_qZyD4t5R6O9i9ezTtZqk6uA2C6Y6W8yrJ1OVT9JRqtq1Eil43G-JvrvpbVSv_VUH/s200/13489558-delicious-bbq-ribs.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BBQ MUTTON Ribs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6XAwSmNIud5qSup_aRWLXZCXpCyLLav8K8RquKbKMcne8Ty8YgY7buw7KdVCP9MZyC87vBl88S1SAFucchQ1cKBZ16kyejc0oqX7lyuhMYM6zRX4N3bHbaYSzR2ZFswMd5pNEnQgNNbjM/s1600/9863368-close-up-of-two-barbeque-pulled-pork-sandwiches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6XAwSmNIud5qSup_aRWLXZCXpCyLLav8K8RquKbKMcne8Ty8YgY7buw7KdVCP9MZyC87vBl88S1SAFucchQ1cKBZ16kyejc0oqX7lyuhMYM6zRX4N3bHbaYSzR2ZFswMd5pNEnQgNNbjM/s200/9863368-close-up-of-two-barbeque-pulled-pork-sandwiches.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goat BBQ</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60zFT41W1NrwJ8ACDO4FcJb0W80wa07Wu6DOL_btkeDIphFy4-TITkcmmNH9OPO0nE8tPRfKVKF7udgJ4jmGbzTC3gVqMSriQOi7621GGCOlf7-cyT_r4G_sH0WhoEfa62MN3RuK3baYb/s1600/187321665721285071_B7XFCBFS_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60zFT41W1NrwJ8ACDO4FcJb0W80wa07Wu6DOL_btkeDIphFy4-TITkcmmNH9OPO0nE8tPRfKVKF7udgJ4jmGbzTC3gVqMSriQOi7621GGCOlf7-cyT_r4G_sH0WhoEfa62MN3RuK3baYb/s320/187321665721285071_B7XFCBFS_c.jpg" width="242" /></a><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb8EGS8_NTViWN1ihwio2o9faqPq75v9zT47J5J10E5SfTz71AXDOhlTk7MGaDDosvmqiV4_GOl5nbcsw3Hcu-sQcSYOojho-Z4E4GljSOjeYqTCiIne8wqkOqZOvKV7GkAyjyjG3stGxm/s1600/20101003-000925-pic-347554682_t300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb8EGS8_NTViWN1ihwio2o9faqPq75v9zT47J5J10E5SfTz71AXDOhlTk7MGaDDosvmqiV4_GOl5nbcsw3Hcu-sQcSYOojho-Z4E4GljSOjeYqTCiIne8wqkOqZOvKV7GkAyjyjG3stGxm/s320/20101003-000925-pic-347554682_t300.jpg" width="208" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Artisans and craftsmen show their work</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dCG3t_b1SSPmkpy6QOyNLWdoC6T9XyZidOCKD9-EpfR0-hq6-UQtVhwSdFdvvll_09bussUvo9nf0mO_fbq7zppGXbUpxvS-IvTdg_Ky5jUNoQDQ7clWrART8Q6y7qwAPzO593p8ZBzA/s1600/6735331-hamburgers-cooking-on-the-grill-copy-space.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dCG3t_b1SSPmkpy6QOyNLWdoC6T9XyZidOCKD9-EpfR0-hq6-UQtVhwSdFdvvll_09bussUvo9nf0mO_fbq7zppGXbUpxvS-IvTdg_Ky5jUNoQDQ7clWrART8Q6y7qwAPzO593p8ZBzA/s200/6735331-hamburgers-cooking-on-the-grill-copy-space.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh hamburger patties</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHgXsHH5fuf1VRZ7dzxK_Sm2qv7vBorItYKsZP2mECxS0DKuWKEvaa2O4JzMMDF4s_yVjE_h5ZHx1FrU3R78plTZTXgKV53y4y_zbOIlM3pqrZ8HS24DPwkwO6hdZb9mh9TzwHLDFVXr0/s1600/10779513-barbecue-pulled-pork-sandwich-on-a-bun-with-two-pickles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHgXsHH5fuf1VRZ7dzxK_Sm2qv7vBorItYKsZP2mECxS0DKuWKEvaa2O4JzMMDF4s_yVjE_h5ZHx1FrU3R78plTZTXgKV53y4y_zbOIlM3pqrZ8HS24DPwkwO6hdZb9mh9TzwHLDFVXr0/s200/10779513-barbecue-pulled-pork-sandwich-on-a-bun-with-two-pickles.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BBQ PORK Sandwich with fresh pickle slices</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlSZLvZB5D2PKUFDevx26FkVXaNTQAjPoTW9UiujpHfkIgZdeHEMISNH4JYImkQJYaYOf_JCmEcx3z93H15nA9H3IN1cp61JzcS-zqr0_usV8DC86Q2M0z18ykq_BwJUTLvfffcw8URiPO/s1600/street_fair_23rd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlSZLvZB5D2PKUFDevx26FkVXaNTQAjPoTW9UiujpHfkIgZdeHEMISNH4JYImkQJYaYOf_JCmEcx3z93H15nA9H3IN1cp61JzcS-zqr0_usV8DC86Q2M0z18ykq_BwJUTLvfffcw8URiPO/s400/street_fair_23rd.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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When school had finally let out for the summer, it was with more enthusiasm than ever, because of the special celebration that would come before school started again in September. Weeks went by and Shelley hadn't passed by the Coxgrove house at all, and gave it no thought. Instead, when she was out she always took another route, if she walked to the store or went over to visit with friends. </div>
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But finally there came the day in late August, and the big celebration was gathered on the streets downtown. Shelley and her Mother decided they'd walk down there, as it was an experience not to be missed, for such a thing as a 175 year celebration would only come once, and to live here when it was happening and not see it firsthand was out of the question. Besides, Shelley had been as curious as the other kids in Mrs. Soaper's classroom but she had not had to beg her mother to be allowed to go. Mrs. Braddock wanted to go.</div>
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<br />
So, on that Saturday, Shelley walked downtown with her Mother and there on Main Street, three blocks from the square, Shelley spotted the moldering green mansion looming ahead of them. She decided this was the time to ask her mother about it. When they drew nearby the Coxgrove house, she asked, "What can you tell me about that old house?"<br />
<br />
Her mother looked at it in distaste. "I'd advise you not go near it. Can't you smell the decay, the wood rot and mildew from here? I really do wonder why they allow that eye-sore to continue standing, when there are some fine homes here that we can all appreciate." Her nose wrinkled and her horn-rimmed tortoise-shell and mother-of-pearl glasses bobbed, disapprovingly. "You haven't been messing around it, have you?"<br />
<br />
"No, Mother; I just walked by it, going to and from school, like we're doing, now. I think it is creepy."<br />
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"It is, and the only reason they haven't demolished it is because the Historical Society has been petitioning it to be preserved and repaired and put to use because of its historical value."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdB1ob8Cu10NrNdLs9ibWVxwJFtnpTWj6Hcm4HFy_cKfeTMUQ8JDhymqlWqRXWkLLtUAeNXZ2TwXGaU4C3LAVI23kUibZLSpdTrV8hGHJUHx3PedUAHYZRIxnvznALo3d9OLs9zm4BI3p/s1600/383417_351951738225341_725412379_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdB1ob8Cu10NrNdLs9ibWVxwJFtnpTWj6Hcm4HFy_cKfeTMUQ8JDhymqlWqRXWkLLtUAeNXZ2TwXGaU4C3LAVI23kUibZLSpdTrV8hGHJUHx3PedUAHYZRIxnvznALo3d9OLs9zm4BI3p/s200/383417_351951738225341_725412379_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
"Why is it so historical? No one will tell me much of anything."<br />
<br />
"Colonel Neil Coxgrove build the house in 1886. My grandmother said the Colonel bought it with money that was taken in raids during the American Civil War. He was on the Union side and was one of General Sherman's Aides. He was with him on the burning march across Georgia. She actually knew the Coxgrove family very well, and she had a lot of stories she told; many of them very strange tales; even stories she heard from the Colonel of his life during the Civil War. She said the Colonel was a man with a gruff manner, and you never dared doubt his word; he was commanding and he didn't put up with wishy-washy attitudes. If he said it, then you best take it as gospel, no bones about it."<br />
<br />
"Did she say if he explained why that face was added to the front?"<br />
<br />
"Face...yeah, I know what you mean. Oh, yes, she did say. He explained that he had the bones of a vampire buried in the basement. While he was gone to Louisville by riverboat, he returned to find the architect had finished the porch and he'd added the extra large gingerbread and the fang-like finial touches, and he refused to remove them, unless he was paid an extra week's work, but the Colonel was so upset he refused, because it was not what he'd ordered. So the excessive Gothic touch remained."<br />
<br />
"What's the story about why he'd buried a vampire in the basement?"<br />
<br />
"Well, the story that explained that tale goes back to when he was newly out of the War. And he was coming home from Appomattox; he was there, too. He met a man on the stage coach and said he was very pale and thin as a rail. He had cheeks so deeply grooved, he was cadaverous and eyes deep set and feverish. His name was Count Kelski and when they rode through the day, he kept bundled up with only his eyes in view. When the sun set, he chucked off his robes and revealed his features more clearly in the coach gaslight. He had very long fingers with horny fingernails, thick and ribbed yellow. His neck was long with a huge Adam's apple that bobbed up and down. His teeth jutted in every direction and his canines were enormous, bulging almost like tusks, but not curving, they draped down over his very red lips that shone, with a wetness from excessive saliva."<br />
<br />
"Granny told you all that?" Shelley asked in awe.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I never told you because it hasn't been anything I felt you needed to know, but today is a good day to tell you. So, dear, what will you like to eat? We can go down by the river and set up our picnic on a granite block and eat there. I think I've already worked up a hunger; and then we can walk around some more, later, and just enjoy all the things on show."<br />
<br />
"Daddy said to order Barbecue, and be sure to bring some home for him."<br />
<br />
"I know; it's a shame he must work in Evansville, today. But he may be back, before it is over. I will buy extra, before we go home."<br />
<br />
"That will be fine; will you finish telling me about the Colonel and the Count?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, dear. But let's wait until then; I've said enough for now, and it's uphill here, and others are walking around; I can't concentrate and get my breath, and walk and talk."<br />
<br />
"OK, Mother. I understand." Shelley linked arms with her mother and helped her at each street crossing and kept close beside her as they walked among the crowds, as they wandered from booth to booth, admiring all manner of antiques, food, crafts and other items on display.<br />
<br />
Finally they bought sandwiches, wrapped in white butcher paper, bags of Lay's Potato chips, and drinks, and walked down toward the depot and the riverfront park, which had plenty of shade because of the trees. They found a large block in an area where nobody had gathered and sat down to eat.<br />
<br />
It was peaceful there; they could hear the bustle of the crowds behind them, the laughter and music, the hum of many voices talking. They faced the Ohio River, and could see the railroad bridge arching over the river, as well as see the boats, and tug-boats, going by on the water. To their left was a landing, and several people had gathered there, where they could cast their rods, and fish. Others walked around, with their Kodak, and Brownie cameras, taking pictures.<br />
<br />
Shelley waited for her mother to take up the story once more, but several minutes passed. Finally, her mother reached for a cigarette, lit it with her lighter, and leaned back against the tree trunk behind her, with a contented sigh, and as she puffed and exhaled, Shelley asked, "Now, please, Mother, will you finish the story for me?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, I said that I would. I know you will keep after me now, until I tell it all to you."<br />
<br />
Shelley nodded, resting her chin on her hand as she sat cross-legged in her blue pedal-pushers, showing bare calves above white anklets tucked in her sneakers; and wearing a yellow, puff-sleeved top with the green and pink hummingbird embroidered on her left shoulder front. Her medium brown hair was in two curled ponytails, and she rubbed her freckled nose, nervously anticipating the story to come. Occasionally, she would knock an ant from her calf, to keep it from climbing behind her knee and biting her in the crease; but her main focus was watching her mother as she told her story...with leaf shadow and sunlight dappling her skin; Shelley knew it was on her skin, too; and a slight blowing breeze helped cool them from the warm day.<br />
<br />
"Let's see, I stopped when I described the Count, didn't I?"<br />
<br />
Shelley nodded, but she didn't speak, just waited, and seeing that her daughter was so rapt to hear the story, encouraged her to continue. One thing Mrs. Braddock loved was to tell stories, especially when she knew she had a good audience, even if there was only one there to hear her.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I remembered how the Count looked because it impressed me at a young age; I heard the story much younger than you are, because my grandmother died when I was nine, and I had a lot of cousins and we would have family get-together's and sometime while we were outside on a warm summer night, maybe with a bonfire going, we would start telling things we remembered, much of it of a supernatural or just in an odd way that related to the others something unusual. The story of Colonel Coxgrove's life was one of my grandmother's favorite topics. If I could remember them all, as well as she told them, there would be enough to fill a small book, maybe up to 200 pages."<br />
<br />
"Wow, I wish you could, Mother. You love to write. Why don't you?"<br />
<br />
"Um, not sure it is worth repeating to share with others...maybe it would be best to just let it die."<br />
<br />
Shelley got worried; she thought she meant to not finish the story, and her frown grew stressed.<br />
<br />
"What's the matter? I am good; I keep my promise. I said I would tell you."<br />
<br />
"Oh, good; you had me thinking you had changed your mind."<br />
<br />
"No, not me...and this time, I won't stop. You should hear this." Mother said, and then with a pause to gather her thoughts, she began.<br />
<br />
"This was around 1935; I was eight when I heard these stories. According to Grandmother this took place back when she and grandfather had married in 1881, because by the time the Coxgrove house was built and he buried the bones in the basement, she and her husband already had three kids. But my mother wasn't born until 1889, and there was two more after her. She had six siblings.<br />
<br />
"The beginning of the Count's story dated back to 1866...remember, he was on the stagecoach on his way home. For whatever reason, the Colonel brought the Count home to Henderson, and let him live with his family in the house he owned at the time. He lived to regret that generous act, as people in the area also grew to fear the strange guest because deaths occurred when he had been seen shortly before. And finally some of the prominent townsfolk convinced the Colonel he was harboring a fiend. It was only when he found his daughter swooning, and pale that he feared for her life.<br />
<br />
"He and several men strong-armed the Count and he was chained, bound tightly, his head cut off and placed in a secret place, and life returned to normal. The Colonel's daughter survived and later married and produced grandchildren. There are descendants living here who can trace their family genealogy back to the daughter and it is some of them who have had the largest voice about preserving the house."<br />
<br />
"You mean he kept the Count's head?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, but the body was burned. That made it impossible for the vampire to ever walk again."<br />
<br />
"Why did he keep the vampire's head?"<br />
<br />
"You're not the first to ask; I asked the same question. I was told the Colonel kept the head in case he ever needed a means to control others, because the head didn't rot, as long as he kept it away from direct sunlight. He also said that he talked with the Count, and when he realized the vampire could live without a body, he was compelled to keep it safe. It couldn't eat, having no stomach or bowels; and so it was rendered virtually harmless. But the Count was very old and knew a lot of history, and its brain still retained all that info and the Colonel used it to help him recover lost treasure. He would go around the countryside to homes that had been raided during the Civil War, and the Count would tell him where to dig. He amassed a huge fortune over a period of twenty years, and finally in 1886, the last mansion known as the Coxgrove home was built. He swore that in it, he had a small room built, and sat the undead skull inside and had the wall boarded over, leaving no gap that would let air or light inside. This, he felt, would stop the head from ever talking to him anymore."<br />
<br />
"But why, after that long, would he take such measures?"<br />
<br />
"Because..." Mother looked all around, making sure nobody had drawn close, listening as she had become rapt in the telling of the story. Satisfied, but still in a low voice, and leaning close to Shelley she said, "The Colonel swore that the vampire had been manipulating him by mind-power to go out and find victims and would watch him as he performed the acts the Count couldn't and vicariously thrived through the Colonel. It was only when he had walked into his cellar and found evidence of what he had done that he realized how wrong he had been to keep the Count's head in secret. It was the Count who had manipulated the architect, while he was gone, to build the face on the front of the house, as a sign for the Colonel to see upon his return just how powerful he was, even when the Colonel was far away."<br />
<br />
"I bet he was afraid the people in town would figure out that he was responsible for any new unexplained deaths, wasn't he, Mother?"<br />
<br />
"Quite so; yes, so he had to stop the Count, however he could."<br />
<br />
"Has anyone ever found that room?"<br />
<br />
"No, and most people, and there are but a few who know this tale...they just shrug it off. There is no Vampire Head, waiting for the wall to come down so it can be freed to claim another host as its guardian. And personally, I hope that is the truth, too. I know this story scared me into being a nice behaved young'un and that was probably its true intention; most fairy tales and scary stories are cautionary, to teach bad acting kids a lesson and hopefully stop them from doing something stupid."<br />
<br />
She stood up and took the trash over to a trashcan, and started walking back toward the celebration in the street. "Come along, darling; we have lots to see, before it is time to go home." Shelley ran to catch up.<br />
<br />
They had been walking among a tapestry and rug seller's wares when they met people her mother knew, and Shelley was introduced to Audrea and Amy-Sue Shore, who said, "Hello, Phoebe and Shelley, how nice to meet you. We hope you will join our cause."<br />
<br />
"And what cause is that," Phoebe asked, looking at her daughter with one eyebrow peaked in curiosity.<br />
<br />
"We have almost enough names on our petition to save Coxgrove house from the demolition team who are supposed to tear the house away on September 11th, a Tuesday. We can't let that happen. It is a monument, and it should be preserved."<br />
<br />
"Well, I hope you won't take it against me, dear ladies, but personally, I think it is long past due to be torn away and become a thing of the past. Can you seriously think that people of this town would enjoy seeing that fanged blaspheme back in a fresh-painted over-powering state...if it's frightening now, don't you know how it will look all gleaming in the moonlight? I shiver just at the thought."<br />
<br />
Audrea and Amy-Sue gasped and frowned at Phoebe; and then to Shelley, Audrea said, "As a child, and don't be biased, please...what do you think of the Coxgrove house being resurrected?"<br />
<br />
"I think I'd like to move to another town, if it is." Shelley replied.<br />
<br />
"Harrumph," the two women sniffed. "You're being silly."<br />
<br />
"Well, if it is, Ma'am and Ma'am, I will make sure my husband moves us to Evansville; he works over there and it will stop us spending so much time apart. Good day to you."<br />
<br />
Shelley hurried after her mother, who had sprinted away as soon as she had flung out her good-bye.<br />
<br />
At a safe distance from the women, Phoebe continued to be irritated, and about an hour later, she bought enough BBQ to satisfy her husband and they began their walk home.<br />
<br />
When they reached the house, the sun had fallen enough that the house looked a bruised purple, and Phoebe said, "I have a really bad feeling about this place; it has an old evil clinging to it. We can't let it continue to hold on to this mausoleum and if those idiots have their way...this place might flourish back into life and carry on for decades to come. Time enough has been its history."<br />
<br />
"But what can be done?"<br />
<br />
"Shh, this is not the place to speak or think." She sped up, and they hurried home, neither of them speaking again, until they were safe in their house.<br />
<br />
Phoebe complained of being tired, and lay down, and Shelley went to her room, and got out her library book to read, until she heard her father come in, and heard her mother go to meet him. They then went to the kitchen. Shelley stayed in her room a little longer, but the suspense grew too strong.<br />
<br />
She went downstairs, careful to walk quietly, and at the door to the kitchen she paused to listen to her parents. She nodded...Mother was telling him about the Coxgrove petition.<br />
<br />
"They're fools; that place is the eyesore of the whole town. It needs to go, and soon people would forget all about it." Daddy said.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I agree, but what if something happened to it, before the day of the demolition?"<br />
<br />
"What are you thinking, Phoebe?"<br />
<br />
A pause, and Shelley stepped back just a bit, afraid they might sense her presence. As she heard the next words, she was amazed that her mother would admit to even having such a thought, let-alone that she would ask Daddy to help her.<br />
<br />
Shelley went back to her room, and undressed, and put on her nightgown. She got into bed and lay there shivering for the longest time, but finally she went to sleep.<br />
<br />
As the next days passed, Shelley could see nothing different in how her parents acted, nor did any of them mention anything about the Coxgrove house.<br />
<br />
School started back on the third of September, and Shelley found her path to school, once again going by the creepy Coxgrove house, and knowing about the Vampire head that was boarded up somewhere in the dank cellar, made it difficult to walk by it. Sometimes, she would run, just to get by it faster, but the sidewalk was uneven and she had to be careful or trip and fall.<br />
<br />
She dreaded the thought that the house might be saved, but so far there had been nothing about a reprieve, and it appeared it might be the demolition team at work, come September 11th.<br />
<br />
But then came the Saturday, the 8th of September, and Daddy was home. And they told her, "Guess what, honey?"<br />
<br />
"What?" She was surprised by the tone of voice, which sounded like he was eager to tell her this news. She looked at her mother, also nodding.<br />
<br />
"Your Aunt Arlene and Uncle P.J. want you to come spend the night with them and to stay until tomorrow afternoon. They would really like for you to visit."<br />
<br />
"Where will you and Mother be?" Shelley looked from him to her.<br />
<br />
"Honey, we are going to be looking for a new place to live. We're moving to Evansville, before this month is up; it's for the best, dear. Your father works in another state and he isn't happy about leaving the two of us here, for days at a time."<br />
<br />
"Can't I just stay with you and help pick out the place where we will move?"<br />
<br />
"No, dear, it will be boring and tiring, and you will be more comfortable with kinfolk. We will be taking you by there this afternoon."<br />
<br />
So she had packed an overnight bag, including a Sunday dress, with gloves also in the suitcase, because her Aunt and Uncle were regular church-goers and would expect her to attend with them. They had then crossed the bridge into Evansville and they drove until they reached the home of Uncle P.J. and Aunt Arlene.<br />
<br />
They stayed to eat a late lunch, before leaving her, giving her five dollars for spending money, and making her promise to tithe a dollar of it at church the next morning. They promised to come after her the next evening, and in the meantime to behave and have a good time.<br />
<br />
Once they were gone, she was asked, "And how would you like to go to the Mesker Zoo?"<br />
<br />
"I'd like that, but I don't want to be a bother to you."<br />
<br />
Uncle P. J. said, "Dear, thank goodness you're a teenager; and brought up as a well minding lady, we rarely have you all to ourselves. We've been looking for an excuse to go to the zoo; isn't that right, Arlene?"<br />
<br />
"Have you ever been?" Aunt Arlene asked, bobbing her head.<br />
<br />
"No, but I've heard other kids tell about it."<br />
<br />
"Now, you will be able to tell others." She said, and to her husband, "Be sure to bring the camera, and extra film and batteries."<br />
<br />
The next three hours was a wonderful time, and she found her aunt and uncle to be fun to be around, her uncle liking to make funny remarks which had her aunt and Shelley laughing a good bit; and Shelley saw animals that she had never dreamed existed. It was a thrill.<br />
<br />
So it was only that evening, back at home, having taken her bath and sitting in her aunt and uncle's living room, in front of this huge console TV and watching the Saturday night shows, that she began wondering how her parents were doing.<br />
<br />
They had a phone, but whenever it rang, it never was her parents, so when she went to bed that night, she went with reserve, worried because her mother had promised she would call before bedtime. But her aunt and uncle explained they always went to bed by 10:30 p.m. so they could get up early and make it to church in time for Sunday School.<br />
<br />
Shelley said, "Will you please let me stay with you at church; I don't want to go to a Sunday School class, since it's not a church I go to often."<br />
<br />
"You're our guest; yes, it's best you stay with us," Aunt Arlene agreed. Then she added, "Dear, while you took a bath, your mother called; I was going to get you, but she said she was in a hurry."<br />
<br />
"Oh, they called?" Shelley felt tears spring to her eyes.<br />
<br />
"Yes, oh, dear...did it bother you that much?" Aunt Arlene was surprised at Shelley's tears. "What is the matter, honey? You can tell me."<br />
<br />
But Shelley was unable to say just what bothered her, and though she felt her aunt would have acted sympathetic, she wasn't sure if saying what bothered her would improve matters or make it worse. So, she ended up saying, "Well, we are moving and that means I will have to start in a new school."<br />
<br />
"Oh, yes, that is something to be worried about. But I think they have found a place about four blocks from here, and if that is so, we will get to visit each other much more frequently."<br />
<br />
"Is that what she told you?" Shelley perked up.<br />
<br />
"Yes, and if they get that house, it will be available on the 15th. You can get moved in very soon. You won't miss much of the school here, and the High School is only six blocks from here; two blocks from the house your mother said they want to buy."<br />
<br />
"They are buying, not renting?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, that was supposed to be a surprise. I hope they won't be mad at me for spilling the beans to you." Aunt Arlene smiled, chuckling. She gave Shelley a hug, and then quietly left her for the night.<br />
<br />
Shelley buried her face in the sweet scented feather pillow and soon was asleep.<br />
<br />
A dream dominated her attention for the next hours, and it was more as an observer than as a participator that she viewed what happened. However, it was a nightmare, and it involved her parents going to the Coxgrove house late at night, and going inside and finding the stairs that went into the basement. There were thick walls of spiderwebs they broke through, and rats running over the floor; as Daddy waved his flashlight ahead of them, and Mother hang onto his belt so that they stayed close together.<br />
Finally, they came to a wall, and Daddy said, 'This is it.'<br />
And Mother said, 'Yes, I think it is.'<br />
<br />
He then took out a sledge hammer and began to beat at the wall, and it was so old it began crumbling with just a few swings, for Daddy was a very strong man. When there was a big enough hole in the wall, he shone his light inside, saying, 'I feel like Howard Carter upon the discovery of King Tut's Tomb, and looking into the chamber for the first time.'<br />
And Mother said, 'What's in there?'<br />
<br />
At that point, Shelley was inside the chamber, and saw what was in there. It sat under a glass dome, and it was grey, pasty...black smudge beneath its eyes, but they opened and looked around widely. Red as fireballs, not regular eyes.<br />
<br />
First Daddy stepped over the rubble, and then in came Mother, and they saw the head, and Daddy said, 'It looks like the Colonel told the truth; and it's waiting.'<br />
<br />
'Yes, remember what I told you, Linus...be careful.'<br />
<br />
Daddy stepped over to the sentient head and spoke to it, 'We're here to get you out of here; the house is coming down; you don't want to be buried forever, do you?'<br />
<br />
The eyes watched them, and then closed shut; when they opened they had turned to a normal though milky blue. A good sign; it accepted their words and wanted to go from here.<br />
<br />
Shelley wanted to yell at them to not do it. That they should run and get out of there; that they couldn't trust that thing, and that right now it was weak...why were they wanting to help it?<br />
<br />
But it was like she wasn't there, and nothing she could do or say would affect the outcome of this...and she wasn't sure it was a dream; it seemed so real.<br />
<br />
But they took the head in a jar and left the room, but not without first picking up an oblong box. So Mother carried the box, and Daddy carried the Jar, and they retraced their steps back up through the shell of the house and outside into the backyard.<br />
<br />
And when they had walked about fifty yards into that big back-yard, they stopped at a tree stump and sat the glass jar on it, with the head turned toward the house. The eyes stared at the house and grew gleeful, lighting up a greenish tinge.<br />
<br />
And then, Daddy said, 'I need you to stand by him and keep an eye on him so that he can see what is next happening.'<br />
<br />
And Mother said, 'We've discussed it already. Just do what must be done. We don't have much longer before dawn.'<br />
<br />
'True, well...I know what I'm doing. Leave this to me. I will be back in thirty minutes, at the latest.'<br />
<br />
And then Daddy walked over to the fence and picked up a five gallon can of gasoline, and he went back to the same entrance they had used to get in and out and he disappeared inside.<br />
<br />
Shelley saw the eyes in the head of the Vampire Count, rolling, and bulging, as it seemed to pick up that something wasn't quite so favorable for it, after all. They grew dark, smoldering red pin-pricks, and it seemed to try to get Mother's attention, but she refused to look at it. She moved a few feet away, and stepped back where she was more behind its field of vision, thus giving it a disadvantage of not being able to see her fully. But it was still positioned toward the house, and soon it was evident, that smoke was billowing out between its boards. The house was burning on the inside.<br />
<br />
'Come on out, Linus,' her mother said, and it grew to a litany, but she didn't move from her place, but kept watching the house, saying, 'Come on out, Linus.'<br />
<br />
Where was Daddy...was he all right? Shelley was drawn to find her father, even though she wasn't sure she could help him if he needed help.<br />
<br />
But she went from the yard to inside the house, just by the thought and there he was, lying on the floor, with part of the staircase pinning him, and he was unconscious. Seeing him, she grew frantic and she reached out and took hold of the section holding him down, and she lifted it and threw it into the flames. It had been no effort to do, and then she grabbed her father and lifted him up before her; it was strange, she felt she could carry him with her two fore fingers and he easily balanced there, still unconscious, and she hurried him outside and only laid him down when she was sure he was away from the flames.<br />
<br />
Her mother ran forward, and Shelley knew to her she thought her husband came out jumping free and falling to the ground. She cradled his head, and kissed him, and he woke coughing. 'We must get out of here. It's a tinderbox; just as I had expected.' he said, struggling to stand.<br />
<br />
'They will have the fire trucks here in a few minutes, but it will be too late to save it.' Her mother said.<br />
<br />
'Yes, but look...the dawn is breaking. And look at the Count.' Daddy said, as they walked back to where the glass jar sat waiting, and the gruesome object within was steaming up the glass, obscuring what was happening within, but as the sunlight beamed through the glass, heating up the interior, it was having an effect that was unmistakable. The head was disintegrating right there in front of them.<br />
<br />
They took the glass case and the oblong box with them, and left the yard, by going through a break in the fence at the back of the lot. Heading home, they kept to the shady areas, and no one saw them, but the sound of the sirens grew louder and louder.<br />
<br />
Shelley woke to the alarm clock that her Aunt had sat on her night stand, "Get up, Sleepy-head. Breakfast is done and if you don't hurry, we will be late to church." It was Aunt Arlene grinning at her from the doorway.<br />
<br />
Shelley sat up, ran a hand through her hair and stretched her back, and yawned. "Sorry for over-sleeping, my dream...wouldn't let me go until it finished."<br />
<br />
"Was it a good one?"<br />
<br />
Shelley shrugged, "Well, I don't know...it's already fading; I think it wasn't too good, though."<br />
<br />
"Oh, it's just your being unused to that bed. I remember times, when I visited overnight and had uneasy dreams; don't worry about it."<br />
<br />
"I'll be glad when my parents come," she said, really wistfully.<br />
<br />
"Oh, they'll be here, soon. Come now; eat, and then dress. We have twenty minutes to be on the road."<br />
<br />
After church, they stopped at a restaurant and ate lunch, and then went home, and watched more TV, and at three p.m., Shelley was excited to see her parents stepping from the car, and walking hand in hand to the porch. She was the first one to the door.<br />
<br />
She hugged them, and said, "Oh my, I'm so happy to see you."<br />
<br />
Daddy laughed, "You just saw us yesterday, Shelley; but it's nice to be greeted with such affection."<br />
<br />
Mother said, "Well, how did she do? I hope she was good company."<br />
<br />
Both Uncle P. J. and Aunt Arlene had only glowing things to say. As they went inside, Shelley asked, "Is it true you have a house nearby, one we'll be buying?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, we will know on Monday, if the bank approves our bid." Daddy said.<br />
<br />
As they went into the living room, Uncle P.J. said, "What's with the bandage on your hand, Linus?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, just a slight burn; nothing serious. The skillet was too hot this morning when I was moving it off the stove." He gave a look at Mother which Shelley saw and read as one she'd seen him have before: don't say anything different than me.<br />
<br />
Something of her dream twisted in her mind...fire, a lot of fire, and her father down...how she must get him out safe...but then it faded. Just a dream.<br />
<br />
That evening, on the way home, they passed the house on Main street...or where it had been. As Shelley turned and looked back, amazed by the charred, still smoldering mound, she said, "What happened?"<br />
<br />
"It burned, last night...they haven't said a lot about it yet, but I am relieved," Mother replied.<br />
<br />
Shelley watched as her parents gave each other their special cheek touches...she knew that meant they were satisfied with something they'd not have to worry about anymore.<br />
<br />
At the house, she saw something else that made her pause and stare. It was a glass domed Jar, and inside was a branch with a wax pear and a stuffed partridge. It couldn't be...could it?<br />
<br />
Her mother explained, "I saw that bell-jar in a junk store...I'm giving it to your aunt and uncle for Christmas; they love Victorian things. It was so nice for them to watch after you yesterday, for us."<br />
<br />
"Do you have an ornate box, too?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, how did you know? It's a jewelry box."<br />
<br />
"May I see it, please?"<br />
<br />
She followed her mother into the front parlor and her father came with them, which she was glad. She felt she must ask them something, and said, "About that dream I had last night; I think you'll want to hear it."<br />
<br />
So they faced each other; the two of them on the sofa, with her opposite, sitting on a chair. Her mother indicated the box, sitting on the coffee-table.<br />
<br />
Shelley nodded, "I saw you get that box and the bell-jar in the hall, but it wasn't at a junk store."<br />
<br />
They looked at each other. "We want to hear your dream; don't leave out anything." Daddy said, and she nodded, telling as much of her dream as she could remember.<br />
<br />
They didn't stop her...and she even admitted, "I heard you talking that night of the <span style="text-align: center;">Sesquicentennial</span>...and how you thought someone should burn it down, and Daddy said, 'that would be me' and Mother, you said, 'And that will be, must be us.' "<br />
<br />
They looked at each other, silently, and when they didn't deny it, Shelley stood up and hugged them.<br />
<br />
"I'm glad you were so brave...but why I dreamed I saw you there...I still don't understand."<br />
<br />
"Some thing's in life defy explanation." Mother said, "but I think we succeeded, because it took all three of us to vanquish that evil entity; but it shall harm no one ever again."<br />
<br />
"What's in the box, if it's OK to tell me." Shelley asked.<br />
<br />
Mother reached out and unlatched the lid, and laid it back; inside, it was full of gemstones, all of an older cut, some still in their gold settings, but many loose, all precious cuts, and most several carats in size. They were every color, and Shelley said, "Oh my, are those real?"<br />
<br />
"Jewels pried from jewelry from last century or before; we think this is part of the trove the Colonel gleaned from the old homesteads, burned out or abandoned by wealthy farmers who met misfortune during the Civil War. We think this was treasure the Count helped him locate."<br />
<br />
"Now, I understand how you can afford to buy a house." Shelley said.<br />
<br />
"Do you want to stay living here, or move?" Daddy said, "We decided we should respect your age, now that you are in ninth grade, and no longer a small child."<br />
<br />
"We should move, I think. We need a new start...I don't think our continuing to live here would be wise."<br />
<br />
"We have a bright daughter, Phoebe. "<br />
<br />
"Yes, we do...I'm looking forward to living somewhere else. Maybe we can find a place down south to live too; or at least do some traveling." She said.<br />
<br />
"We will want to travel so that we can find buyers for these gems; we can't sell them to the same person, you know." Daddy advised them. "But there is enough stones here to keep us in comfort for many years to come."<br />
<br />
They went to bed that night, with Shelley feeling that this town called Henderson had no clue how lucky it had been, and she wondered if there were other places with such creatures lying in wait...she had a feeling there were. And if there was something she wished she could talk her parents into doing, it would be to go hunting for other towns that needed to be set free from some ancient unseen evil that dwelt just below the surface-level of ordinariness, hoping to find its way out to poison and sap the good energies from a place and its people.<br />
<br />
It was something she would keep alert about, and maybe...opportunity would come knocking; if it did, she'd be ready. Yes, she would be ready.<br />
<br />
The End<br />
<br />
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Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-37055231700685851812012-10-26T02:57:00.001-07:002012-10-26T06:58:59.103-07:00The House on Skelton Drive<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Although I've been given the address of the house on Skelton Drive, I expect something different for a professor's home, and as I park my red car at the curb, I sit there staring, thinking it must be a joke and maybe I should drive away, before I give somebody a heart attack from laughing too much.</div>
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This wasn't a fancy kept Addams Family home, although its architectural style was from the same era.</div>
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But this house has been a few years in disrepair, and I must give it its due, the thing looked haunted.</div>
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Why would Professor Nightshader reside in this hole?</div>
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Well, I must answer some of these questions, and the best way would be to go knock on the door and see who answers. If the Professor answers my knock, I'd have to put aside the idea it's a joke, because he wasn't the kind to joke. I've never met a more solemn kind of fella.</div>
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So I screw up my nerve and I walk to that red door, and I take the doorknob with the screaming skull and I rap three times. And then, I wait.</div>
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As the door creaks inward, there stands Professor Nightshader, and the sunshine falls inside the doorway. His mouth falls open and his shadow appears on the wall inside, upon another paneled door; a gigantic shadow of bat wings.</div>
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"Hurry and come in, the sun hurts my eyes," Professor Nightshader says, urgently. As a smell of something burning stings my nostrils.</div>
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I look to my right, at the fence and see the Jack-o-lantern scarecrow protecting the lot...finding that about as disconcerting as the smoldering Professor Nightshader who has scurried further back into the darkened hallway, I'm really wanting to get the heck out of here, but I have a book report to deliver, since I missed turning it in earlier, and if I don't get it to him now, he had already said any reports turned in after October 31 would see their grade average drop a full 1/3, and that just seems unfair, but Professor Nightshader has a reputation of failing half his class because of steep rules which he won't bend if you break.<br />
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Inside, the professor has calmed sufficiently to welcome me, "Hello, Harry Cassetty, I'm glad you came, there is someone I've been wanting you to meet."</div>
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I handed him the report and said, "Here's my book report on Sabine's Potions and Illuminations."</div>
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"Excellent, I knew you would have it for me. You've been my favorite student this semester. So are you ready to meet Sabine?"</div>
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"Really, Professor, but she was burned in 1656."</div>
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"This Sabine is my niece."</div>
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"Oh, in that case, cool; I'd like to meet her."</div>
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I followed Professor Nightshader, as he scurried around corners that had been lit </div>
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by candlelight inside globe-shaded candelabra making that eerie bat shadow appear to be scampering over the walls sometimes ahead of us, sometimes behind us, sometimes skittering over our heads...</div>
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Finally, we reached a door and the professor calls out, "Darling Sabine, we have a guest; I'd like you to meet. May we enter, dear?"</div>
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"Please, do," a musical tinkling voice answers, young and sweet it sounds.</div>
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We go in. The chamber is all rosy, with a large fireplace and a black kettle bubbling over the flames, but the smell is one of vegetable soup cooking, not some icky potion made of questionable ingredients. And I realize I'm very hungry. The girl stirring the pot with a long ladle, smiles over her shoulder; she's bathed in a golden light, her face is beautiful, long hair to her waist, a pointed leather hat on her head.</div>
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"Hello, Uncle Gill, and this is Harry? Hi, Harry, will you have a bowl of my stew?"</div>
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"I'd love to try it, Sabine. It smells wonderful."</div>
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"You're not afraid to eat witch's stew on Samhain?" Professor Nightshader asks me?</div>
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"Not if it is made by Sabine." I smile.</div>
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"Take your seat at the table. And eat all you desire."</div>
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I sit down and so does the professor.</div>
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As I take up my spoon, ready to dip into the rich, full bowl of vegetable stew, a bottle catches my eye, that sets in the center of the table; a bottle of boos; sparkling lights twinkle inside, a black cat and ghosts and bats were painted on it. There's a cork in the top, and as I lean closer I hear 'boo, booo' coming from within.<br />
"It helps set the mood," the professor says.<br />
"I catch them in the cemetery three doors down," Sabine explains.<br />
"I go down there at midnight and release them, with the promise that next year, they can come back to visit with me again."<br />
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"Oh, so do you conjure them with your book of shadows? And are you any kin to your name sake?" I ask, deciding this soup is more turnip than potato and it has more pepper than salt; my sinuses are starting to stream and I wish for a tissue to blow my nose, but there's nothing, not even a napkin.<br />
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"Yes to both questions," Sabine says, stepping over to me, she holds out an apple that shines so bright I can see our reflection mirrored up-side down on its skin.<br />
"Have an apple on me, deary." She says, but I shake my head.<br />
"Too bad, your loss," she says, and hands it to her uncle.<br />
I watch as he opens his mouth to bite, and I see the fangs.<br />
"Oh, I'm a fruit-bat, not a vampire bat." He says, "I live on fruit pulp and veggies...blood gives me indigestion."<br />
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Sabine says, "Are you drowsy, yet, Harry?"<br />
I'm nodding, my eyelids very heavy.<br />
"Excellent," her words, this room, and my two hosts are growing distant, fuzzy...the last I hear is this, "The stew's potent...you will sleep a sleep like the dead." Her laughter's no longer twinkly but raucous like the squawk of a crow.<br />
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I waken, sitting in my car, as the sun rises higher over the roof of the decrepit house...I must have slept all night here, my neck creaks and I feel very stiff.<br />
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At school, when I walk into class, a man I don't know sits on the edge of Professor Nightshader's desk.<br />
"Hello, you must be Harry Cassetty; I'm Mr. Binder...I'm the new teacher for the rest of the year, taking over my predecessor's caseload."<br />
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"And what happened to the professor?"<br />
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"No one is quite sure, but he was found in the yard of his home. He was burned severely, parts of his limbs had disintegrated into dust..they found your report there in the leaves. Was you the last to see him alive?"<br />
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I look at the people staring at me.<br />
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"I've not talked to anyone; so maybe I'd better not say anything, in case the police want to talk to me."<br />
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The class is a blur. I remember little because half way into it the police come in and I leave with them; I heard the class muttering behind me. "Did Harry kill Professor Nightshader?"<br />
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All I could tell the cops was what I have told here; and as to how the professor ended up out by the scarecrow, partly burned to a crisp and the rest of him dust, I can't say, nor why I was back in my car, or what happened to the mysterious Sabine.<br />
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But I do know this, if I ever meet her again, I'm telling her she sure can make a mean pot of stew.<br />
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THE END<br />
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<br />Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-54726794222460082082012-10-26T01:28:00.000-07:002012-10-26T01:34:23.243-07:00Just Believe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A bounty is here at hand,</div>
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I want to share with you.</div>
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I promise if you accept, you</div>
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will not leave empty-handed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih92M6IwdWTSDAngomvpe8oyHq3561xzASD_OT6DCM4JNnoJN5GAJCsBDk6L9ukfpFgDQYBdJu8V-TMXk5kU1XrIm_w8TxmwMUfc98yuhyphenhyphen2bMuB6pq7Oh78eQ5lM9hOyX8pOjKwN_4_Dqp/s1600/3940718393433837_trNGPvF2_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih92M6IwdWTSDAngomvpe8oyHq3561xzASD_OT6DCM4JNnoJN5GAJCsBDk6L9ukfpFgDQYBdJu8V-TMXk5kU1XrIm_w8TxmwMUfc98yuhyphenhyphen2bMuB6pq7Oh78eQ5lM9hOyX8pOjKwN_4_Dqp/s320/3940718393433837_trNGPvF2_c.jpg" width="237" /></a></div>
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some things in life</div>
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take on a need to be seen</div>
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in a different light</div>
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or in a different way</div>
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if you let your imagination free</div>
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to go wherever it will</div>
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then you will find each day</div>
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with less strife</div>
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but plenty of wonder</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY4PHjRdF6OBUD5c-r2Vi7fhZeBeSecsjEcfb11F17S5ZXVW63DpLzz2O4kkJddXf4K_akhGdtsOwzrLGVoDHSA4o-roV7nigRxiu6pTDr1VfsPptnmwme59jPzQmcAt5xYn-djDsL3TCh/s1600/286260120035922432_if5sx9gc_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY4PHjRdF6OBUD5c-r2Vi7fhZeBeSecsjEcfb11F17S5ZXVW63DpLzz2O4kkJddXf4K_akhGdtsOwzrLGVoDHSA4o-roV7nigRxiu6pTDr1VfsPptnmwme59jPzQmcAt5xYn-djDsL3TCh/s320/286260120035922432_if5sx9gc_c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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but some people are so afraid of change</div>
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or even of stepping outside the norm</div>
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or outside their comfort zone</div>
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they instead end up,</div>
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a spider-web shielded skull screaming in a corner</div>
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unwilling to admit they have fallen behind the times</div>
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and life on the fast track</div>
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has passed them by</div>
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is it too late to turn back?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj97dXOdlP94yPuVmMEDKKDdS48V8EYbEONbXuHFb9rmYLTvOmlmB-WCEGg4Woh2uA4_JmQllWFY7yAS4UH6caiM_09pVADFbCh6yBAFmeUnb8IecgPjTAWVu9YhBSb1O3S9nYQmwNcWF6a/s1600/286260120035830433_uqbQUjnL_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj97dXOdlP94yPuVmMEDKKDdS48V8EYbEONbXuHFb9rmYLTvOmlmB-WCEGg4Woh2uA4_JmQllWFY7yAS4UH6caiM_09pVADFbCh6yBAFmeUnb8IecgPjTAWVu9YhBSb1O3S9nYQmwNcWF6a/s320/286260120035830433_uqbQUjnL_c.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
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contemplation to a cup of tea</div>
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a warm sweater and an engagement ring</div>
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will sanity hold together any fear of derangement you see</div>
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as you stare at the tea grains forming, in arrangement, a scene</div>
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contemplation in a cup of tea</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhja4MbfEQaT26iPWWZjFCBujMGIZvkeuyHf5UguDhc18X5Gz7Kwbg60XYx4gW8mtvKP8CgsoTNxUsuwMuJVRsSh7NvxyfV38VUUNEeKMrE-2y6-3y7mvMB34Hvuk41xkIEgK9squBal5/s1600/224054150182828308_czs74wDX_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhja4MbfEQaT26iPWWZjFCBujMGIZvkeuyHf5UguDhc18X5Gz7Kwbg60XYx4gW8mtvKP8CgsoTNxUsuwMuJVRsSh7NvxyfV38VUUNEeKMrE-2y6-3y7mvMB34Hvuk41xkIEgK9squBal5/s320/224054150182828308_czs74wDX_c.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
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The raven tops</div>
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the totem of autumn gourds</div>
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arranged on the bird bath in the side yard</div>
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as dusk comes on October thirty-first;</div>
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will that yearly Halloween thirst,</div>
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for all things strange and wonderful, </div>
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be satisfied </div>
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or will it die,</div>
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after a long and lengthy cry</div>
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of utter terror</div>
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that raises hair and goosebumps</div>
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to any close enough by</div>
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to hear the mad rustlings in the dark?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWyzuW6axxHiBnVsWSsNcbwzE2hURO4aamPnEyFxsrNv481L2j-94Vrs4csvnApUM-G2io5MGKeOkuGe8bOjP729jW1alFXl8jWHcyp_GBDRt3FK6pXErN_zgGBgRUan38GBMYXQ02sWt/s1600/13088655136560328_1GkFO4OK_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWyzuW6axxHiBnVsWSsNcbwzE2hURO4aamPnEyFxsrNv481L2j-94Vrs4csvnApUM-G2io5MGKeOkuGe8bOjP729jW1alFXl8jWHcyp_GBDRt3FK6pXErN_zgGBgRUan38GBMYXQ02sWt/s320/13088655136560328_1GkFO4OK_c.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
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A fall time yard, multi-layered trees</div>
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the windows of the house glow,</div>
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reflecting the orange flame colors of the leaves;</div>
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prepartions are being made</div>
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for school parties and outfits made to scare</div>
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the home-owners into giving them nice treats</div>
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so no mean tricks are played at night</div>
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on All Hallow's Eve</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOW-IE50Imuui5FvilQNqR36ZK1TifqpI06Jn5goXcMgcq6maC9mH1mVdtqdVAPoKnY0kKIjTCGYHz-bpjui3_F0yO2zb_2WRm-X0M1JOFKXSWYmuUkIET89B33Jz8MLcbuu6M2sIANnny/s1600/3166662209078252_t0vsNaVp_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOW-IE50Imuui5FvilQNqR36ZK1TifqpI06Jn5goXcMgcq6maC9mH1mVdtqdVAPoKnY0kKIjTCGYHz-bpjui3_F0yO2zb_2WRm-X0M1JOFKXSWYmuUkIET89B33Jz8MLcbuu6M2sIANnny/s320/3166662209078252_t0vsNaVp_c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
oh my, what is in the chestnut shell<br />
staring at me?<br />
I must take it with me,<br />
for who will believe me<br />
without it to show them and<br />
what will they do<br />
when they see it staring back<br />
at them from inside its spiny shell?<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_iSHgi3FDhfdh2ITKUfJtD32Ch3GrGvGBbWrRtu_NKpCRizMoAXOqQlOpazOduipM0CeflcgbBbazdfrjIP9yJXk8vZTSseeyRVK4QSYcZi9cxbm0lu3UjBsHaxQ20cOM5Ki3fabHGaS/s1600/281193570453514867_NJoW183v_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_iSHgi3FDhfdh2ITKUfJtD32Ch3GrGvGBbWrRtu_NKpCRizMoAXOqQlOpazOduipM0CeflcgbBbazdfrjIP9yJXk8vZTSseeyRVK4QSYcZi9cxbm0lu3UjBsHaxQ20cOM5Ki3fabHGaS/s320/281193570453514867_NJoW183v_c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I hurried down to my friends,<br />
wanting to show<br />
what I found on my way there,<br />
and as I walk up<br />
to the door, two kittens watch me,<br />
a display of pumpkin and squash<br />
sits on a crate...<br />
my surprise find is pricking my hand,<br />
but I won't throw it away<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHpkX_AEn9mPlZxS3VcBXf9YvLdZNZbOpAcBACX8Ol8_NzF32QrcD0bwRE1MZ4IRug_pz9o-8N740LY53-HB6v2-jotFA_6-K3jB1SvYd3CP4qlOagKDBEOknX3prKej8xYzvtcGNL0wHA/s1600/248331366922544239_vRUpnS9K_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHpkX_AEn9mPlZxS3VcBXf9YvLdZNZbOpAcBACX8Ol8_NzF32QrcD0bwRE1MZ4IRug_pz9o-8N740LY53-HB6v2-jotFA_6-K3jB1SvYd3CP4qlOagKDBEOknX3prKej8xYzvtcGNL0wHA/s320/248331366922544239_vRUpnS9K_c.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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after all, I have brought a prize that is special</div>
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because magic can be captured inside a jar</div>
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and in the wonder of the sight</div>
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a surety is at hand</div>
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that the wildest impossibility</div>
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is never impossible at this time of year.</div>
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not if you suspend disbelief</div>
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and believe</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitd27ebJvNgqHOd2dx4oBn8mxN5WgX4H9XLcEZfKPYHdf3s6wiPcvay72GmA-GR9g9VG9-opgm6eT5UnRulrA7fVEq10o6vCKTmX7mswqeQTagMm6LITqkZCSmMbALS6PfjHL-9SpTe6o1/s1600/286260120035008971_9SABxYVq_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitd27ebJvNgqHOd2dx4oBn8mxN5WgX4H9XLcEZfKPYHdf3s6wiPcvay72GmA-GR9g9VG9-opgm6eT5UnRulrA7fVEq10o6vCKTmX7mswqeQTagMm6LITqkZCSmMbALS6PfjHL-9SpTe6o1/s1600/286260120035008971_9SABxYVq_c.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-52924721847860127262012-10-26T00:43:00.001-07:002012-10-26T06:57:16.122-07:00Out for an Autumn Stroll<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5BfpYvS4ugjWV12SZ9_WiUSH3uvyBFsTxh1JJV29_eP_wQ7RWdF1wWlnkzkW-q1QpuBelAu323GGZt7_xlb4Q5BIka7lHv8uwK5HxXmIdVwKIte5rC58_V68xNlfGOCnuBZew-qhlAdkH/s1600/246642517062333024_3sfRHpk5_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5BfpYvS4ugjWV12SZ9_WiUSH3uvyBFsTxh1JJV29_eP_wQ7RWdF1wWlnkzkW-q1QpuBelAu323GGZt7_xlb4Q5BIka7lHv8uwK5HxXmIdVwKIte5rC58_V68xNlfGOCnuBZew-qhlAdkH/s320/246642517062333024_3sfRHpk5_c.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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Out for an Autumn stroll</div>
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Just to see the colors true...</div>
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Leaves of orange, yellow and red</div>
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The summer green, we think so right,</div>
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Are the trees in mask, not the shades of fall... </div>
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A stairs, leave-strewn and bold</div>
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Where will they lead?</div>
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Just watch the step, leaves can be slick if damp</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyJ-X8QQUOfrTswU1RBIpguTziBInqj_izALUo51MRwLYgu0mN28-zuFScz0ic-n8lmr8eo11Gs3yui8RTuxmWw7dr5fBfZ6ASwCyUczJer1hsyehOgui2SsKcDeEA_kfp0eGC7ao3uH9/s1600/96897829452163181_sIvEo4ij_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyJ-X8QQUOfrTswU1RBIpguTziBInqj_izALUo51MRwLYgu0mN28-zuFScz0ic-n8lmr8eo11Gs3yui8RTuxmWw7dr5fBfZ6ASwCyUczJer1hsyehOgui2SsKcDeEA_kfp0eGC7ao3uH9/s320/96897829452163181_sIvEo4ij_c.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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Passing by a fence, what do I see?</div>
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A pumpkin yard is full of orange pumpkins</div>
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so many as this, must be for sale</div>
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it isn't a field, so they came from somewhere</div>
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will children come here</div>
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and pick out their favorite ones</div>
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and take them home</div>
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to carve them into Jack-o-lanterns</div>
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to sit on the porch and sidewalk</div>
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with a candle lit</div>
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inside to cast the faces made on the gourds' sides</div>
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and meet and greet</div>
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the spooks and creepy things </div>
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that pass by on all hallow's eve night?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnrEOKjFKlt42XMCc7lQsJqkvOBpfHle6ORtf2uZHZtYdj6Xn78edZ50c11vifOVXTivX5LSHYJZsNbzyKe8njzezdAixohGNNaqjtO6XBnoHiG0MXmo_jrHfvEmTmSTJlWySql81ZABmx/s1600/274297433525502466_tPGskePv_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnrEOKjFKlt42XMCc7lQsJqkvOBpfHle6ORtf2uZHZtYdj6Xn78edZ50c11vifOVXTivX5LSHYJZsNbzyKe8njzezdAixohGNNaqjtO6XBnoHiG0MXmo_jrHfvEmTmSTJlWySql81ZABmx/s320/274297433525502466_tPGskePv_c.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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here I find another set of steps</div>
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this one carefully swept</div>
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no loose, fallen leaves but each step</div>
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has a pumpkin setting there</div>
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and vine leaves grip tight</div>
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the back wall of each step...</div>
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neatly tended, a care is given here</div>
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that says, "I love this time of year"</div>
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and in this spot, it is hard to fear</div>
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the unknown</div>
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it feels safe</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcz32vWvst08k4ryqqC7y12-M68mhyphenhyphenuLNRiodRqmrkPeI9ng4xBfpK5qmgVCWloFqWHj1xUM3q4LKSBrfyLbKJK14Lpc0VrtqQwH6G_m8g6W7rOODmnlaIvTrg4z-BfZIos5GboGWOxMji/s1600/3166662209136403_Z76GXrrt_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcz32vWvst08k4ryqqC7y12-M68mhyphenhyphenuLNRiodRqmrkPeI9ng4xBfpK5qmgVCWloFqWHj1xUM3q4LKSBrfyLbKJK14Lpc0VrtqQwH6G_m8g6W7rOODmnlaIvTrg4z-BfZIos5GboGWOxMji/s320/3166662209136403_Z76GXrrt_c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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walking further, something moves among the leaves</div>
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I pause and wait, wondering</div>
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and then something furry and grey emerges</div>
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from beneath the tossed up orange leaves</div>
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a kitten plays</div>
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chewing, biting, kicking the leaves</div>
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I am amused and laugh at the antics of the playful cat</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCnarmSEAImiFMxquE7m6tUVsUTtQ3QkEu2ZE3zkw1XsZMgxuImqmYQ-g9tGOM3ektrS-XEa-tEFLrL3nxjyS6V4sa52jBxkYMWMxW1eK7OH-ys-oj5712odbqr90It4wLuWJcPcwH4g_H/s1600/75013150013644686_nbahNB6m_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCnarmSEAImiFMxquE7m6tUVsUTtQ3QkEu2ZE3zkw1XsZMgxuImqmYQ-g9tGOM3ektrS-XEa-tEFLrL3nxjyS6V4sa52jBxkYMWMxW1eK7OH-ys-oj5712odbqr90It4wLuWJcPcwH4g_H/s1600/75013150013644686_nbahNB6m_c.jpg" /></a></div>
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going home, it has become dark</div>
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and colder, a wind picked up and nips at my heels</div>
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on my way, I am sent</div>
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and at home, I only want to snuggle</div>
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and feel content</div>
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I sit on my favorite couch, I desire</div>
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my legs under me,</div>
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with a brown, autumn homemade throw</div>
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draped o'er me,</div>
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as I listen to the crackling fire</div>
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and the wind at the eaves</div>
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a late evening in the autumn time</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXPSwR0KHWzNv_Y27-XDvI5DJnBgyFhUWZLdkl0HwTIfNfOlfw7mHXGwN1CFtSzokdN0afoX4UEzmobZx5-z_kldA8SF0EMZ6zthAsl_XG_yudNhlXIXc_-qONThWlE6PyonzEInk7ktZF/s1600/211317407485987821_cwZVY6N7_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXPSwR0KHWzNv_Y27-XDvI5DJnBgyFhUWZLdkl0HwTIfNfOlfw7mHXGwN1CFtSzokdN0afoX4UEzmobZx5-z_kldA8SF0EMZ6zthAsl_XG_yudNhlXIXc_-qONThWlE6PyonzEInk7ktZF/s320/211317407485987821_cwZVY6N7_c.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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on the coffee table, beside a stack of books to be read</div>
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a harvest bowl of pears</div>
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red and green with a touch of orange blush</div>
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nestled in leaves</div>
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appeals to my hunger</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cYwlkra9uFElNhOp2-J7ePAgt4kx3uCKzaiWaqDNfmZxnYVZ3VGCntpz61bcJXm4_FoBnSUac0QTRb1bswTWSrG7htI6jZbalufCxwrzLaYgZNBrW5Ttn4G5ERohzoqnO-scPOvals0M/s1600/183521753535026369_fV7Ntv5Q_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cYwlkra9uFElNhOp2-J7ePAgt4kx3uCKzaiWaqDNfmZxnYVZ3VGCntpz61bcJXm4_FoBnSUac0QTRb1bswTWSrG7htI6jZbalufCxwrzLaYgZNBrW5Ttn4G5ERohzoqnO-scPOvals0M/s320/183521753535026369_fV7Ntv5Q_c.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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along with luscious pears,</div>
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I want</div>
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a hot cup of cocoa, </div>
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topped with melted marshmallows </div>
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and rimmed with cinnamon toasted </div>
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crunchy bits for extra flavor</div>
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now this, I call fun</div>
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Red apples, picked from the tree in the yard</div>
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home grown apples beat store-bought</div>
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you know they are yours, they are free</div>
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for the picking...sought</div>
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for the fun of eatting them or baking them</div>
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and whatever doesn't get collected will feed</div>
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the animals of the neighborhood</div>
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apples, with stars in the heart</div>
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and a seed</div>
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in each point</div>
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apples so dear</div>
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fruit of the field</div>
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And when Halloween is done</div>
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that does not mean fall is over</div>
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The cornucopia of the autumn season is </div>
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yet to be filled to over-flowing</div>
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And to some it will reach its peak</div>
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as families gather around the table</div>
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filled to bounty its display of goodies</div>
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All the best that crops have produced</div>
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to give thanks to the lord</div>
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for what there is in life</div>
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to be grateful for</div>
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<br />Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-13985001770640594262012-09-18T17:15:00.001-07:002012-10-30T12:49:41.116-07:00The Seven Woes which Jesus named the Pharisees: Their Relation to this Day and Time<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><br /></span>
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The Seven Woes which Jesus named the Pharisees: Their Relation to this Day and Time</div>
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(See Mathew, Chapter 23, for these seven woes in the bible)</div>
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Here are the seven woes of hypocrisy:</div>
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Woe 1: Teachers of Religious Law and you Pharisees: sorrow awaits you: hypocrites! Shutting the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces, neither do you enter nor will you allow others to enter in.</div>
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Now: There are churches and organizations, who will frown on someone who is not dressed in the finest, with a fancy car setting in the parking lot. Come in looking poor, expect to be treated poorly; no chance, according to them, that such a sinner can find atonement and make it into Heaven; “just not up to standards, can’t quite cut the mustard, you’re dirty, shaggy, a bad history and no future,” so they whisper to each other: “will you look at that?” and when it’s time to go: snubbed, or a disdainful “We really think you belong somewhere else.”</div>
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And how does Jesus react to this sort of behavior: “Sorrow awaits you, hypocrites.”</div>
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Woe 2: Teachers of Religious Law and you Pharisees: sorrow awaits you: hypocrites! Crossing land and sea, seeking one ‘convert’ only to turn that person ‘double time over’ a child of hell, even more-so than yourselves are.</div>
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Now: Missionaries, spreading the word, across land and over the sea to distant shores; finding a convert...and then instilling a ‘hell has no fury like heaven scorned’ mentality...and the convert ends up backing away, no desire to follow something that is shoved down their throat and to be told who you are, how you pray or relate to a Supreme Being doesn’t matter, what matters is the Laws of Abraham and Moses; only this matters, the rest of the world faiths are wrong; a Native American was perceived as being soul-less and unspiritual, misguided, and a savage, the only good red-man was a dead one. When sent to school, they were harshly punished if found speaking in their heathen native tongue; forced to take on white man’s civilized ways, belittled, stripped of their identity, yet never to be accepted by the white man’s establishment. An outsider, a man or woman with nothing left, no dignity, no identity, no homeland, no way of life, not accepted by their own people because they dressed and were taught the ways of the white man, but never to be accepted by those who claimed this was the way they should be, because of their race, considered beneath them, therefore contemptible...kept down, even to this year of 2012, herded on reservations in the 1800s, which were picked because the white man didn’t see that land as worthy; not until gold was found in the Black Hills, and then forget any treaties; or forests that loggers wanted, or for other reasons; just how can they screw the Indian out of what is theirs?</div>
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And how does Jesus react to this sort of behavior: “Sorrow awaits you, hypocrites.”</div>
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Woe 3: Blind guides, what sorrows await you! Saying it means nothing to swear by God’s Temple, but finding it binding to swear by the gold in the Temple. Blind Fools! Which is more important- the gold or the Temple that makes the gold sacred? But more, you say to swear by the altar is not binding, but to swear by the gift on the altar is binding. How blind can you be? Which is most important: the gift on the altar or the altar that makes it sacred? Gold or gifts made as sacrifices for atonement were only as good as the heart and determination for purity behind it. But the altar was sacred and close to God and part of the Temple; it wasn’t to be defiled. The Pharisees worshipped at the Temple, carried on in manners they believed right by the fact they were followers of the Law. Yet they chose to declare gold and gifts of a trivial kind as binding but not as truly sacred and their oath-binding was loose where they wanted to be lax but tight in other ways, making it rigid and unforgiving, judgmental and self-righteous.</div>
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Now: Gifts of gold or other riches, in a church of fine esteem, matters more than the alter that is for the humble hearted, those with a sincerity to improve on their attitude and life style. Outwardly, making like there is a love of God’s Temple but inwardly hating the following a straight line with no desire for effluent ways, not wanting to be self-sacrificing and kind, desiring nothing in return; “oh no, that so and so curse them into the ground for not saying thank you or realizing how much they owe me for what I did for them”; forgetting it is not for man to claim any good that befalls another, except to say I was an instrument in God’s plan; all glory goes to God.</div>
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And how does Jesus react to this sort of behavior: “Sorrow awaits you, hypocrites.”</div>
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Woe 4: Teachers of Religious Law and you Pharisees: sorrow awaits you: hypocrites! Tithing is given to careful attention to the tiniest herb garden’s income, oh, you must reap from it; but there is far more important matters and these you ignore: fair justice, gentle mercy, and faith in God. You should tithe, yes, but don’t be consumed by it, forgetting all else. Blind guides, straining your water to free it of gnats/mosquitoes’ larvae...but instead, your greed assists in you swallowing a camel/bloated ego.</div>
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Now: Ah yes, that greed of the material verses spiritual worth; so many in this world worship money and call it their god, literally, I mean this, not just figuratively. They will go to the biggest church because the wealth oozes out of pores and the fact is, you won’t find poor folks there, appeals to their ego’s idea of being grand, important and famous, and better than others; they’ll tithe richly and then write it off for tax-breaks. Whatever they do of a Christian generous nature is not from an honest heart and desire to help another but to make an appearance of ‘giving to others in need’ when in truth they would spit on a homeless man and curse him for being worthless and shouldn’t be allowed to breath, lower than rats.</div>
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And how does Jesus react to this sort of behavior: “Sorrow awaits you, hypocrites.”</div>
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Woe 5: Teachers of Religious Law and you Pharisees: sorrow awaits you: hypocrites! Attentive at keeping the outside of your cup and saucer clean, but neglecting your inner self, filling it with filthy thoughts and yearning for carnal lusts and worse: full of greed and indulgence of your most base desire. Appearing to be clean, showing others outward restraint and an appearance of having no interest in carnal matters, but in secret, having minds most foul, soaked in greedy self-indulgence.</div>
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Now: Better check that closet for those hidden lies; the bodies under the patio stones, that foreign bank account where you socked all your cash so you wouldn’t be taxed for it; the trunk of your Mercedes Benz or BMW or Cadillac Town-car for the rest of the secrets you’ve hidden from everyone; man, that is, but not from God; he knows all.</div>
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And how does Jesus react to this sort of behavior: “Sorrow awaits you, hypocrites.”</div>
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Woe 6: Teachers of Religious Law and you Pharisees: sorrow awaits you, hypocrites! Walking white-washed tombs, this is your aspect to any who looks at you, appearing a façade of perfection and purity, beautiful to behold, but within a wasteland of dead bones reaching to the horizon, each reeking of rot; even the buzzards want not and turn away. Scrupulous law-keepers, righteous in your own dust filled minds. Skeletons in the cobwebbery of the darkest corner of the castle dungeon, torturous writhing mask of ‘I am so right.’ Wickedness is the name of your bed.</div>
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Now: Putting on a front for caring about the ancestors of yore; and especially for Jesus... you stand on stages, acting out how good you are; admitting to sins that have been patterned for your sinner turned saint appearance; big show, you of multiple faces, repeating a story with facts but some are evasive or straight out lies contrived to suit your needs; your real aim, besides being sanctimonious is that gated mansion, kids in colleges, wealth pouring in every week in the thousands because your cornerstone is a place attractive to thousands, oh charismatic and cunning, even funny, able to play on the emotions of the audience; is this the preacher or disciple Jesus called to walk in his footsteps? He warned of false prophets. </div>
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And how does Jesus react to this sort of behavior: “Sorrow awaits you, hypocrites.”</div>
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Woe 7: Teachers of Religious Law and you Pharisees: sorrow awaits you: hypocrites! Building tombs for the Prophets even though your ancestors killed them, decorating the monuments of the Godly people your ancestors spat on and stoned to death. Saying, ‘oh had you been in that time, you would never have joined in that reviling hatred.’ Testament to the fact you are your grandfather’s children. Like begets like. Go ahead, you snakes and vipers, carry on what your forefathers started. Just how will you escape the Judgment of Hell? Many godly people’s blood will be on your hands, and I tell you the truth, this judgment belongs to this very generation for killing prophets and God’s Messengers, yours will be a place of desolation and I tell you this, you will not see me again until you say, “Blessings on the one who comes in the name of the Lord.”</div>
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Now: Snakes and vipers, Jesus called you well, he knows every heart and thought; he will not be deceived even if you fool yourself. </div>
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And how does Jesus react to this sort of behavior: “Sorrow awaits you, hypocrites.”</div>
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Jerriann Wayahowl, 9-18-2012</div>
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Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-17234455921825444642012-09-11T00:23:00.001-07:002013-02-05T13:02:31.422-08:00Memorandum to the Tragedy of 9/11<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I first wrote this on 9/11/2009, how it had been 8 years previous. But now it is 2012, and that day has come again: this still holds a strong truth, and I decided to post it once again.<br />
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About this time, I was watching the attack on TV of the twin towers, and seeing that horrific and devastating fall of the twin towers; which truly marked a moment in time when trust in others was breeched, and our ability to innocently accept others, without suspicion, changed forever.<br />
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That terrorist act made everyone suspect, from there on; not just at airports and immigration portals, but right out on the streets of USA; and Homeland Security was formed, which I know is meant to be for everyone’s safety, but which is more like having Big Brother able to say you are a terrorist for the tiniest of reasons.<br />
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No longer is a person a simple citizen, and yes, I mean people born and raised in USA, and their parents and grandparents before them; every person is treated like a possible terrorist, even the 90 year old lady or the pregnant lady or the 2 year old in her husband’s lap, and most certainly, the husband, and more so, if they have a foreign sounding name or look like they are of another ethnic minority/race; even though, this is a land of many peoples, and not a land of few, or a land of the white.<br />
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Here are found people from all over the world, and some have been here for generations, even if they are of Asian or Eastern stock, or European or African; many have been born here, and so, many are as much American as they can be. 9-11-2001: the wake-up call.<br />
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Give silent respect to those who died; yes, but also pray that those who survive are not mistreated or subjugated to atrocities in the name of justice. So be it.<br />
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What do they call America? Land of the Free; Land of Equal Opportunity, where anyone can become a millionaire; Land of the Brave; Land of Diversity; Land of Dreams; Land where nothing is as it seems.<br />
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America has earned some other names, not so nice. Land of Deceit; Land of Warmongers; Land of Liars; Land of Two-faces. Where is the Land of Friendship? Where is the Land of Peace and Good Will toward All Men? Where is The LAND OF FREEDOM, for that Land doesn't exist since 9/11/2001; Oh My God, what has happened to Turtle Island?<br />
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Heavy questions and hard ones to answer, but more is how to rectify the wrong? The government is going about it wrong, and they are sinking this land of the turtle a little deeper with each passing day, and though turtles can swim, it is a land creature and can drown, if stayed submerged too long, mired in the sludge of this foul result brought about by retaliation of this nation against other nations, bringing war upon others, for views based on religious extremists who go against their own moral code of “thou shalt not kill” to attack the innocent, and doing so without concern for age, race, gender or religion, indiscriminate murder/suicide for preconceived glorification in the hereafter?<br />
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Creator wants no acts of murder and will not condone it; they follow the mindset of madmen and deceive only themselves. But, too, so do these Ones in power: the Bush Administration, and now the Obama Administration.<br />
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Why do they refuse to administer to the nation in need, and see that the people have the health care, the educational needs, security of home and job, and seek peace between the peoples, within our borders and also amicable relations with other nations, and desist with this war policy; we should seek peace, at all costs.<br />
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Oh, the turtle’s heart bleeds and her eyes weep copious tears, a flood of tears, for she fears a trap she will not kick free of…she is not free, tangled in oil-slicked coils of so-called democracy? It is hypocrisy, this Government we live under. We, the people of this nation, know it better than any other, what is happening to sisters and brothers of this once great land.<br />
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Who knows all of this better than the Red Man, the Indigenous People who have suffered from the start, once the Europeans moved in and took over the land, claiming it, buying and selling it, raping it, and otherwise, defiling it. The Natives understood that one can not own the earth; it owns us; from dust we come; to dust we do return; and Spirit returns to Creator.Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-90103896490116543312012-09-01T01:30:00.003-07:002012-09-01T01:42:45.774-07:00<br />
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What Jesus’ Last Hours Were Like</div>
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High on that hill of Golgotha, on Calvary,</div>
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Built on the garbage dump of the city,</div>
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The Christ, Savior of Sinners, everywhere,</div>
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Hung upon the cross.</div>
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Between two sinners, guilty</div>
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Of their crimes, Jesus wept.</div>
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One mocked him, saying, “Save yourself and us, too!</div>
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Where is that band</div>
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Of angels, son of Man?”</div>
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The other one told that one off, and said,</div>
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“This man has done no wrong.</div>
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He has chosen to die, so we all could live.</div>
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Soon, to go to heaven, away</div>
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With the wind, he will be swept;</div>
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So bother him not; just leave him alone;</div>
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I believe in him.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Jesus had been put on trial,</div>
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After being betrayed</div>
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By one of his own disciples;</div>
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He had been ridiculed and</div>
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Beaten by a cat of nine tails or a scourge;</div>
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Thirty nine bloody , fiery stripes he bore;</div>
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Yes, for us, the straps of that beating, he gladly wore.</div>
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Bleeding, dirty, spat on and cursed by others,</div>
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By members of his own people, the Jews,</div>
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They turned away</div>
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And refused to accept him as the Messiah;</div>
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Never once did he grumble or say ‘please, no more’</div>
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He said instead; “Father, do as you will.</div>
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I am yours; I know sin is real,</div>
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And it takes a greater sacrifice</div>
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To give solace to the hopeless.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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As the crowds gathered around,</div>
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Jesus saw his mother on the ground,</div>
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And John the disciple stood beside her.</div>
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He called out to John, “She is your mother”</div>
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And ever after she lived in the house of John the disciple.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But as the hour grew later into the afternoon</div>
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He would hang there for us all, taking on our sins, he’d die,</div>
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And then his body; they would take it down.</div>
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A darkness gathered crouching over all, for the time</div>
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Was close upon the son of man;</div>
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Wind blew and the lightning flashed.</div>
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Night fell heavy in the afternoon.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Soldiers had taken his clothes; they had drawn lots.</div>
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Another had given him sour wine or vinegar for his drink.</div>
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Not a bit of mercy given him; not a bit of rest was his to wink.</div>
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They pierced his sides and let his holy blood flow.</div>
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They had mocked and placed a crown of thorns; oh woe.</div>
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People held their noses and carried on about the ‘ungodly stink;’</div>
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It hung in the air; a miasma of the worst smells sins can reek;</div>
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Oh, the ones who hated him, they looked on him with fear; this meek,</div>
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Mild, humble, man of peace whose one unshakable faith was his strength:</div>
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“No man shall see the Father, except he comes through me.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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In the last hour, Jesus called out, “Father, I am ready; call unto me.”</div>
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Even then, the mockers cried out, “No other has smelled so foul;</div>
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How is this a man of God? What a stink; he stinks with such horrid body odor;</div>
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Even the leper, whom this man healed, never smelled so bad as this!”</div>
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Staring at the man on the cross; dirty, bloody, beaten and abused;</div>
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His bladder and bowels had emptied their contents, soiling his bare legs;</div>
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They spat at him; they threw rocks, insulted him more,</div>
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Before they turned and walked away, and Jesus watched them go.</div>
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He said, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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On the ninth hour, the breath went out of Jesus,</div>
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And an ABSOLUTE darkness fell over the land.</div>
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He died to save us all; yes, every last one of us he offered his hand.</div>
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An earthquake split wide the rocks on the hillside cemetery.</div>
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God changed the face of the Earth for a short time.</div>
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From the cemetery the dead awoke, and</div>
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The saints walked home to their families.</div>
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A rich man agreed that Jesus would be buried in his tomb;</div>
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His body was taken down and washed and bound with the shroud;</div>
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And to the tomb it was moved as quietly as it could be done.</div>
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It was on a Friday; would he rise again the third day?</div>
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<br /></div>
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His betrayer, having remorse, tried to give back the 30 pieces of silver;</div>
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But the men would not hear of it and distraught Judas went away.</div>
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He had thrown down the blood money earned with a kiss;</div>
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And hearing the fate of Jesus, Judas killed himself, upon a Judas tree.</div>
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The money, as the prophets said long before,</div>
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Was used to make a potter’s field</div>
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For those who had nothing; a sign that</div>
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For all, one day, Jesus would yield</div>
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A place to be buried to those who had nothing.</div>
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Giving them a place to rest until the call to rise again would come,</div>
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When Gabriel would blow his horn on Judgment day</div>
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<br /></div>
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Jesus rose three days later, yes, I believe.</div>
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The first he met was Mary Magdalene,</div>
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And he forbade her to touch him; for he</div>
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Had not yet been to the Father;</div>
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He was still unclean from the days in the underworld;</div>
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Some call it purgatory; she must not touch him.</div>
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Did she hold her nose? For her lord gave off a mighty stink;</div>
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Not just of the grave but the lingering sins of the world,</div>
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Which his resurrection put to an end, and life regained its sweetness.</div>
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Not to say he was corrupt; his body was whole;</div>
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But he had been to the land of the dead</div>
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And he surfaced as a victor over death.</div>
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<br /></div>
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To the disciples remaining,</div>
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He showed the nail holes in his feet and in his hands.</div>
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He told them that he died so he could save man.</div>
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One disciple, Thomas, had to be given proof</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
that it was Jesus, their master and teacher.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
“Thomas, do you not know your Lord?</div>
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It is I who stands before you.”</div>
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Holding out his scarred hands</div>
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Thomas knew it was true;</div>
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“The lord Jesus had risen!”</div>
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Soon he would go to Heaven to be</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
With his Father;</div>
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For his sacrifice to conquer sin</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Has been filled;</div>
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And many centuries have passed by.</div>
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Two thousand years have gone by,</div>
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And I know, in my heart, that Jesus is still here.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Here, we find, all these many years later,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
The Lord is our Savior.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
You know he is there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Open your heart and</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Let him be the best friend you’ll ever have.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
But as you go through your days</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Remember all the ways,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Acknowledging Jesus Christ is the only way</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
You will see Heaven.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Think of the love for us Jesus has, he loves us;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
He knew us every one; and knew it must be</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
And he felt it was worth</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
All the suffering; Jesus is the Shepherd and he loves his flock.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Yes, he suffered for us, and aren’t you glad he did?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Think of being in a place of great burdens and facing the ultimate sacrifice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Jesus did it; he gave his life for us sinners;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
He loved us, and came down from on high to walk among us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Now if someone had looked down on you, and said something hurtful,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
If they claim to be Christian they fool only their selves;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
For Christ became like one of us, yet he was innocent;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
He was the lamb of God and for Adam’s children he gave his life.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Forget the way people treat you;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Live the Golden Rule; look around</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
And spread that big smile.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
And if you find in your life</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Someone who claims to be Christian,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
But is picky and looks down their nose at you or others;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Someone who will fuss about</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
Something like someone's beard or maybe</div>
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A so called body odor, think back to the reality</div>
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Of the Lord’s last hours;</div>
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And if you think you smell roses, think again.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Don’t put down anyone else,</div>
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For there are times in life we all smell stinky.</div>
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We will all answer for our sins</div>
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When this World ends;</div>
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Every man, woman or child;</div>
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So keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself.</div>
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Everyone needs to remember not to put on airs,</div>
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And let on they are any better</div>
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Than another person, for whatever the reason,</div>
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Because the Lord of Lords loves us all the same.</div>
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So remember that when you pray in Jesus’ name,</div>
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Jesus in this day and time would be wearing jeans,</div>
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Have long hair, and a beard,</div>
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He might be shoeless; he might not have a dollar to his name.</div>
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Remember man’s wealth never meant anything to him.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Would you treat him differently</div>
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Or would you treat him the same?</div>
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He might look like a bum</div>
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But outward appearance will not stop Jesus from his path.</div>
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Don’t judge by the looks,</div>
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For you can't make one hair white or black</div>
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Mean anything more special to Jesus.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Don't make insults to others.</div>
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All of us should be sisters and brothers.</div>
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If you turn around and sneer at another,</div>
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Just because you think someone is less than they really are,</div>
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That is not Christ like behavior to act petty.</div>
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Jesus is the one who carries the scars.</div>
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If you cut down someone, belittling them,</div>
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Jesus is upset by your false heartedness</div>
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Be a good person; at least try your best.</div>
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And remember what it was like for Jesus</div>
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Those final hours of his life</div>
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He went through pain unimaginable</div>
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It wasn't pretty</div>
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And also keep in mind, that night</div>
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He died to put our sins right.</div>
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He gives us a hope for eternal life.</div>
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He made everything right.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Your sins are forgiven when</div>
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You are washed in the blood of Jesus.</div>
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With Jesus in your life,</div>
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It is easier to sleep at night.</div>
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Yes, be born again in water and of Spirit.</div>
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When you are saved, you will do no petty,</div>
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Backstabbing acts of jealousy again.</div>
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That is an act of evil; not of Jesus;</div>
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His act is one of unconditional love.</div>
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The time for setting your life right is now;</div>
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If you want to go to heaven above,</div>
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Get on your knees and accept Jesus in your life.</div>
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and for the rest of your life,</div>
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Live it right, live it for Jesus.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Jerriann Law and JD Couch, 8-30-2012</div>
Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-9545208601266142822012-07-20T23:59:00.002-07:002013-01-13T07:53:22.673-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuyrU1advTXmIzw5JTaUo8RLFRCw9sjCm_6VVAJwTYoM1Mo1e0pARcTeYaQ-o7UxcCQ1NeJ8K5TzXmDTDea-GTboAJfg9eaAv65Q3QH7Y7kZvoL-8eTd1cGXus-VO9rKRKikhS5qUgtrbf/s1600/482098_491759214172274_1992924706_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuyrU1advTXmIzw5JTaUo8RLFRCw9sjCm_6VVAJwTYoM1Mo1e0pARcTeYaQ-o7UxcCQ1NeJ8K5TzXmDTDea-GTboAJfg9eaAv65Q3QH7Y7kZvoL-8eTd1cGXus-VO9rKRKikhS5qUgtrbf/s320/482098_491759214172274_1992924706_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s With the Wind</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">(dedicated to my sister, Holly Angela Law, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">RIP, 1-8-1955/ 4-28-2012)</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> She has walked on</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Into the light, the warmth, the love</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Not alone, or unloved</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s conquered life</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Her life has come to an end</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">No stone shall bear testament</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">That she was here,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Except her parents’ own</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And there lies only the mother in a coffin;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">The father, like daughter, was caught up by the wind</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Dust in the wind</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But what of this gentle soul</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Who never meant harm to anyone?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But who harmed her self most;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Lost within the labyrinths</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Of the mind’s confusion;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She became a ghost of her former self</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She spent her fire to exhaustion</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Upon beliefs only she understood</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> She has walked on</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Into the light, the warmth, the love</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Not alone, or unloved</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s conquered life</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She influenced her sister so much</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Impressed her with her wisdom;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She knew so many things</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Her mind so capable of grasping complexities</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Hers was a mind that reached so far,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But somewhere along the way</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">There can a day</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Where she shot past the right entrance</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And instead moseyed into a realm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She should never have ventured;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">After-which she could never quite find her way back?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And she wandered aimless but thinking her goals</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Were still worth attaining; not hesitating?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">While leaving behind her previous goals</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And finally, she was unable to work those plans nor did she try</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">There was a time she allowed her sister to take part</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">In her visionary escapades; what else could they be called?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Fantasy realizations that both believed to be all too true</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Two aspiring young authors carried on the invention of other worlds</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But there came a day she said to the younger,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">“Go make your own world and</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> People it as you will and put yourself in its center;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">There can be no room for two females where I am;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">For I am all that a female embodies and all men here belong to me”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It hurt so very bad to be told this; pushed away after so long of sharing</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And the younger sister walked down the road one day;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And slapped her own cheeks a few harsh slaps</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And said, “What a fool you have been”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And yet, it was not over; it went on several more years;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It was not even that bad at the time;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Not like it came to be.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She wasn’t ready to let go of the younger sister,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> Her one staunch supporter;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Nobody else was ever allowed to get as close</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And so there was a bond to the end</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">The sister loved her older sister,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Regardless of what was said or done</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> She has walked on</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Into the light, the warmth, the love</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Not alone, or unloved</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s conquered life</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And regardless who understood the truth about her;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She will not let anything stop her from that love</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She never turned away and the elder sister knew she was there for her</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Although times passed when it was difficult to visit</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">In those last years after mother died;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And five years passed before the father died</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But he was in declining health;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She, the oldest child, never saw him again</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And he only knew how she was when</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> The sister told him how his oldest was;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">He would nod; not say much; there wasn’t much to say</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She had no family; they were dead; all but a sister;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She told those who took care of her in those last days in April;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She was right; since no other bothered to visit her, why</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Would she think anything different?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> She has walked on</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Into the light, the warmth, the love</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Not alone, or unloved</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s conquered life</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">What impression did she make upon this world?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Well it is hard to say, the sister can only speak of the impression</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She left upon her; maybe that’s all that matters.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">How she came across to others- it is neither here nor there</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">What the sister knows is she loved her and told her so;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But saying those three words back was near impossible to express;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Yes, that hurt, but her mental illness kept her</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> Unable to express this emotion;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Not unusual, being from a family that found it hard to say I love you</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Even though it was a tight unit and</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It stayed that way until mother passed on;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And then the family fell apart; and a new chapter began;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">One with the elder sister in a nursing home to the end of her life</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">The surviving sister thinks back to the early years</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">How she had gone with her and daddy while</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">The elder took lessons on the violin;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But after a few visits it ended; for more than one reason;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But one was the price of the lessons was too expensive;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Another being the teacher, Les Smithhart,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Disliked daddy’s simple, country ways;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Maybe even because the younger sister sat in his precious rocker</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Which had been reserved for Hank Williams and</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">He didn’t want anyone sitting there</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And the four year old sat down, not expecting the outburst;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">After which she was banned from coming in.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But it occurred to the sister, many years later;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">What a lost opportunity that had been; she could have been</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Something like: Alyson Krause, if things had worked out;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She had a pretty singing voice;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Something like: Buffy Ste. Marie;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And if she had achieved that one goal,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> Many others would have come true too</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And she might never have gotten side-tracked, as she did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">When the sister cried that last day she saw her,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She was puzzled as to why she was so upset</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She didn’t understand the tears;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> She asked her why she was doing it.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Yes she’s in a better place; but the loss</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> And the sorrow that things didn’t go well in her life</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">That’s why the tears; and when she asked why;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> the words were’ I love you’</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But they weren’t returned and</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">When she left she meant to return,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">But a ride back kept her away;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> And so eleven days later, calls came;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> She was gone; there would be no more seeing her in this world.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> She has walked on</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Into the light, the warmth, the love</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Not alone, or unloved</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s conquered life</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">She’s with the wind</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">©JA Wayahowl 7-20-2012</span></div>
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Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-55098864195846813422012-07-17T11:15:00.002-07:002012-07-17T11:44:32.655-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQzqnYFq1cJnGLUmE-Qi6TsUhK1n8hSBPyTIM4o8Uu6T8AhZSqNQDljhYdqJwexXoa7qt35K2fF3mNi0UAM4pxq4qxQYPYxHFxrW5Ulm7xG1AhyphenhyphenO_nbyE_RrJ8Cfr7heppvkPunBsKqQpK/s1600/548073_412372102142851_1463563288_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQzqnYFq1cJnGLUmE-Qi6TsUhK1n8hSBPyTIM4o8Uu6T8AhZSqNQDljhYdqJwexXoa7qt35K2fF3mNi0UAM4pxq4qxQYPYxHFxrW5Ulm7xG1AhyphenhyphenO_nbyE_RrJ8Cfr7heppvkPunBsKqQpK/s320/548073_412372102142851_1463563288_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A Native Message</div>
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Sad hearted, I wandered through the burnt forest; ear turned to the summer breeze.</div>
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Upon the smoke tinged breeze floated the cries of animal and bird, warning me;</div>
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And from out behind the blackened trees, five young Indian braves surrounded me.</div>
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The five braves did not surprise me;</div>
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I heard their footsteps upon the dry ground;</div>
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Only when in drought can they be heard;</div>
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All other times, their walk is silent.</div>
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“We come to you, our brother Wisdom, in concern over the way</div>
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People of the earth are treating our world;</div>
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They are careless, and</div>
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They act without the respect they should have.</div>
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The earth cries out to the Red Man, for our help.</div>
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She knows we are closest to her of any man.</div>
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The sky is dry and sheds no tears;</div>
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The river, so long, and normally full to overflowing,</div>
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Now it is weak and cannot move,</div>
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Sluggish with trash-logged mud,</div>
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Dead fish, rotting in the heat;</div>
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Or wide-cracked banks that even the frogs can’t spawn in;</div>
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Where is the water?” said one brave, ribs showing in his gaunt frame.</div>
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“They have man-made reservoirs with filter plants;” a second one said,</div>
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They drink bottled water; they think, they are fine, in their head;</div>
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Don’t they know fresh water is a scarcity?</div>
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And without it, humanity</div>
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Will crease to be?</div>
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Don’t they know that without water, trees die?</div>
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And without the trees, man will choke on his own exhalations?”</div>
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“What we breathe out is poison to us, but trees need it,” said a third brave;</div>
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“And in turn the trees give us the oxygen we crave.</div>
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Not a single breathe we take should be</div>
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Taken for granted,</div>
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Yet most of humanity</div>
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Does exactly that; well, soon mankind will learn;</div>
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One day soon, for water, we all will yearn.</div>
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No fish and no animals will be found;</div>
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And then what will there be to eat; any where to be found?”</div>
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“If plants all dry up; animals have no food, nor will we,” said the fourth man.</div>
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“The forest is brittle, and heat lightning causes brush fires.</div>
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One day soon, our home will be the one to expire.</div>
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The mountain peak that touches the sky</div>
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Needs to send down the snow</div>
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To water everything that sits below;</div>
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It will fill the streams and life can begin again.”</div>
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“Tell us, oh Brother Wisdom; what should we do,” asked the fifth man.</div>
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“I, Brother Wisdom, I speak; we must do our part, for the world to be revived;</div>
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They say even the mountain is bare; that little snow is on its slopes;</div>
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Why do you come to me, brothers?</div>
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What do you expect from me that I can do that you can’t do?</div>
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Are there no more homes for the bear and caribou?</div>
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You must keep this planet clean and safe for us all;</div>
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Both human and animal spirit alike;</div>
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Do I climb the mountain and call out to Creator,</div>
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Begging for mercy upon this earth and her people;</div>
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People know that keeping our earth clean is saving our home.</div>
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Parts of this earth have gone past help from man, in any normal way;</div>
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Only Creator can return to life what is already dead;</div>
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Only with Creator is there hope for another day.</div>
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As long as you chant to Creator; in this, you’re not in the wrong;</div>
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But whatever remains, in Creator’s hands,</div>
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It is alive and will heal itself in Creator’s time.</div>
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Only miracles from above and blessings of love;</div>
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And forgiveness of our ill ways will bring the change</div>
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That gives us a chance to continue living on this earth, our home.”</div>
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“Oh, Great Spirit, surely you hear our cry,” I continue to chant;</div>
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Hear us call out for help to save our home;</div>
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This land is where we are all free to roam;</div>
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Chant with me, oh brothers; A’ho.”</div>
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“A’ho; see our hearts are open; we are true in our request, </div>
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We chant to you, on high, mighty Creator;</div>
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We will keep working; we will do our best.</div>
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We praise you; for you are worthy, oh Creator;</div>
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No one on Earth could ever be greater;</div>
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Creator of this universe; Creator of the way;</div>
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We praise you; oh, let the healing rains come this day.</div>
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We will all do what we must do.</div>
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Let the blistering curse across this land be no more.</div>
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Let this world, our mother, be the jewel of beauty</div>
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In the sky that she is; and we upon her surface,</div>
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Let us be content and happy. A’ho.”</div>
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Raise arms high and chanting; “Creator, show us your concern; A’ho.”</div>
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And as we look up, down falls the wet cooling rain;</div>
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A healing balm to this thirsty world comes once again;</div>
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“A blessing from Creator; there is hope once more; A’ho;</div>
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Earth returns to her previous state, once again;</div>
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Beautiful is our world, once more pollution free.</div>
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New life in abundance;</div>
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Joy in every step of life’s dance.”</div>
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Six Natives go back into the forest, returning home.</div>
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“Blessed be this earth; A’ho;</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-_fPjglobZ_ISc9B4R6MhmxWem52aQmrLEa80yqjBHeuJZG2ZyUetZiky26WXWEafHYX9DyDnp8cgCWWVnx9yYRmGNZyhfTSNie3xEVt3Y52XpQ86flGYw2Q1R9i5DCK7pqG5JARqHfF/s1600/399466_412404625472932_1538900716_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-_fPjglobZ_ISc9B4R6MhmxWem52aQmrLEa80yqjBHeuJZG2ZyUetZiky26WXWEafHYX9DyDnp8cgCWWVnx9yYRmGNZyhfTSNie3xEVt3Y52XpQ86flGYw2Q1R9i5DCK7pqG5JARqHfF/s320/399466_412404625472932_1538900716_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Praise to the Creator who loves this earth so much, A’ho.”</div>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-75426468030109339832012-07-07T10:11:00.001-07:002012-08-20T13:46:22.429-07:00<br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><b><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Heart Full of Hate</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16pt;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Why is it when we are children, and so young at heart;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16pt;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Why do some of us have a childhood of being neglected?<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Why are we abused, just because our Parent’s thoughts on a subject<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Are often received, but for whatever reason, weren’t collected,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">And when we didn’t do as they said to do, we are corrected;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">To the child it just seems mean; a lot of yelling, cussing, hitting for what?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They never make it understood, except to say</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> They told us and why didn’t we obey?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Being disobedient is a crime and it can reap severe punishment.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">When a child received what they perceived as unfair punishment,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">It brings anger, retaliation and resentment;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">A child rebels and refuses to cooperate</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">It makes for a situation that gives leeway for a heart full of hate.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Do they not know how much we love them?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They will ask us if we love them;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Because we weren’t respectful</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> And fought their attempt at correction;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They say we will ‘end up paying for much bigger sins,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Because if you start off young on the wrong foot,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">You can only go downhill from there;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> Attitude will get you no where good, son.’<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">But do they ever take a look at them-selves?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Don’t they know to have respect given to them, it must be earned?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Sure they know it; they shove that rule in any misbehaving kid’s face</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They want so much to put a kid in his or her place.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They only see faults in the child, never in them-selves.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They are the ones who don't open their eyes until it's too late.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">No matter what they are trying to correct in the child</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They are the role model the kid is meant to emulate;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">And if they say, ‘eat your vegetables, but go on about hating greens’</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">What does that tell the child?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">If it is all about the evils of smoking or drinking, but they do this;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Isn’t that just acts of confusion; if you preach it, then do it or shut up.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">If you birthed a child at 15 years old,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> What message are you passing to that same child?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">When you say, ‘no, don’t have sex so young;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> You’re not ready; don’t repeat the mistakes I did.’</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Well, all the kid knows is ‘you did it and I am here;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">And there you go saying I was a mistake?’</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Their feelings hurt, feeling rejection; a heart full of hate.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They don’t see it was a bad arrangement of words;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">It wasn’t that the child was a mistake</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">But that the steps to having the child was bad choices</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">In fact, usually made because their parents</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> Tried to stop them from doing wrong;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">And the kids will follow that train of thought with,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> ‘So why tell me anything; I’ll do as I please; it’s my body;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Hard headedness is a trait passed from parent to child.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">The child can’t see the good points you make</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Or why you are so frustrated;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They don’t realize you are upset</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Because they want better for you;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">But in fact most parents repeat</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">The same mistakes their parents did too.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">One day, they will look in the mirror, and say;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> ‘Oh my God, I have sealed my fate.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">No wonder my child grew up with a heart full of hate.’<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10pt;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Well this doesn’t just happen in America;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> Neglect and abuse of children goes on all over the world;<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">One day it will come to a screeching halt.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Parents will finally admit they did the things their parents did.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They never thought they would but the rebellious spirit puts them in those shoes;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Only if a child sees early on the truth and sets out to be different than others</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Will the day come when they will find their children’s love is there?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">And with it, respect for them, because they were fair,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">And explained why any punishment had to be made,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> so that there wouldn’t be a misunderstanding.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">For most, you best believe, and trust me;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">If a child rebels it was due to anger earned;</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCVSZuU74R0CGs792gtOlCvPku1VX6hWq8kwYFaotzji9ntkMRwK4nBYHbT8bZsBi4hvSNNR18lv7wvi5Q3Sy2cFBTFqtLhwcFiPPFUomZX8zZ-M_ztgu35fxrxHcD9GoEXra4HYWYFLb/s1600/251990541620144631_RPo8E4un_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghCVSZuU74R0CGs792gtOlCvPku1VX6hWq8kwYFaotzji9ntkMRwK4nBYHbT8bZsBi4hvSNNR18lv7wvi5Q3Sy2cFBTFqtLhwcFiPPFUomZX8zZ-M_ztgu35fxrxHcD9GoEXra4HYWYFLb/s320/251990541620144631_RPo8E4un_f.jpg" width="219" /></span></a></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> It is the parents at fault for not clarifying why</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> The child should not do something or other.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Each set of parents reach a day</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">When they will take that final walk;<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They won’t be able to say a word by then even if asked to talk.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">So much about arguments is brought on by misunderstandings;<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Before it’s too late, go to the Lord in prayer and ask forgiveness.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They should plead for the child to be relieved of that heart full of hate.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Only then can there be hope for families with grown children</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Whose hearts are full of hate?</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Don’t let it come to that; seek understanding.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 10pt;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I am a man who grew up with his heart filled with hate.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I thank God for great people who helped me change my fate.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I made a choice so long ago not to be like my Dad;<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I said I would grow up to be nothing like the man;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">He fathered me, but in most ways wasn’t a loving father;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Yes he and my mother brought me into this World.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I saw how cruel he could be to her, as well as any of her children;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I was the oldest of six; he made another family and six more kids;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I’m not sure he was any more loving to them than us;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">It seems that way, but I know my daddy’s ways.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I think a man like that would find it hard to love anyone.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">He taught me by his bad actions to be a more kind, concerned man;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I might get angry but I do my best to insure they understand I care.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> I will treat my Kids like they are angels every day that I can.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I will not let life go on, and they never see a loving Dad until its too late;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I Love them while they are young and they will know I always cared;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">To me this matters more than anything else in life;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">So I suggest to you, don’t wait;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Begin loving your children so that when they grow up</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">They know their own offspring is safe and will be treated well around grandpa;</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Be sure they know exactly why you say ‘no, don’t’</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">And hold off on the abuse; it won’t help your case.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Remember anger only brings on the worst of feelings.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> I say this and I mean it with all my heart;<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I refuse to let my Child grow up with a heart full of hate.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<b><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: 14pt;"> JD Couch and Jerriann Wayahowl (7-4-2012</span></b></div>
Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-87812659182659179322012-05-26T23:50:00.002-07:002012-05-28T20:35:43.631-07:00<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq5zcsXRk1tB6AEGJLTwuHiZHMyspmT2MoWKbI62NenYIWF9-uC84JkH6BZt_8L-o-1JVU14DG3nPN21wDLfoI1u8e6mU7-xASukUs8dDmapslOnmYBxv264qwCZDE8uCsqWPoj5T-u4uX/s1600/Downloads269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq5zcsXRk1tB6AEGJLTwuHiZHMyspmT2MoWKbI62NenYIWF9-uC84JkH6BZt_8L-o-1JVU14DG3nPN21wDLfoI1u8e6mU7-xASukUs8dDmapslOnmYBxv264qwCZDE8uCsqWPoj5T-u4uX/s320/Downloads269.jpg" width="247" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>The Key<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key to a great life is to love your fellow man.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key to living for God is to believe in Jesus Christ.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He is the only one who can save you, and you know he can.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key to a great relationship belongs to those who love
each other,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And makes it a priority to treat your fellow man as your
brother;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For all God asks us to do is love one another;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hope you listen to these words, and understand me,
clearly;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jesus is the savior; he is the key to set you free.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key is in your hand and its name is kindness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key is in your ways and its name is gentleness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key is in your actions and its name is generosity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key is in your manners and its name is graciousness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key is upon your tongue and its name is truth’s sword.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key is upon your shoulders and its name is strength.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key is balanced on your head and its name is learning to
patiently wait.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key is in your heart and its name is love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key is God’s Grace; by this key you will enter Heaven’s
gate.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key to love is the key which unlocks your heart.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Key to a great
day is all in how it starts.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key to salvation is having the Heavenly Father in your
heart, mind, and soul.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The key to life does not know which way it will go.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Only following God is the key to his love; he has more than is
shown;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His love is everlasting. His love is eternal;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is true; his love
is the greatest story ever told.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>© JD Couch & JA
Wayahowl Law (2-15-2012) and
(5-25-2012)<o:p></o:p></b></div>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-56029533475859692462012-05-19T01:49:00.000-07:002012-05-20T15:08:46.676-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQj4syDlVZIYqNDmGGfKOEVnP5cRKvKZpr655F6kE6xkMQpJ8YE1KM6NtfzlqkRA3CcD-DoSsDkFpYOhargwYUip59NzzmhS1PdtXI3z-HtpFKVl49D_W-BV_jY9rgdFQPVSlCArmOtyO/s1600/Recently+Updated46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQj4syDlVZIYqNDmGGfKOEVnP5cRKvKZpr655F6kE6xkMQpJ8YE1KM6NtfzlqkRA3CcD-DoSsDkFpYOhargwYUip59NzzmhS1PdtXI3z-HtpFKVl49D_W-BV_jY9rgdFQPVSlCArmOtyO/s320/Recently+Updated46.jpg" width="247" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My Aunt Irene</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I recently lost my Aunt Irene. The funeral was on the 12<sup>th</sup>
of May. Since she lived in Indianapolis, they provided a service for her there
on the 10<sup>th</sup>, before shipping her down to Kentucky and her old
hometown. She had been recovering from gall bladder surgery and was in a
nursing home, thinking she would be going home soon, but while taking a shower,
she took a fall, and death occurred. This was on the 8<sup>th</sup> of May.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had lost my sister ten days earlier; and though I loved my
aunt, the death of my sister drained most of my tears reserved in my reservoir, leaving it nearly bone-dry;
also, I would rather think of the good times about them both than dwell upon
the sad.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is in honor of my aunt; I have another essay coming in
honor of my sister. I feel they both deserve their own piece about what they
meant to me, and I will share some of my memories. But I felt I must mention
the fact they walked on within a very short time of each other, and I feel that
had my sister still been here, alive, there would have been plenty of tears for
my aunt. But I know she knows I loved her; it is not all about tears that says
how deep love can be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What was Aunt Irene like?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To know my aunt was to know a fun-loving spirit. In the
words of her husband, Uncle TJ Harville, “She loved life and knew how to live
it to the fullest.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I asked Uncle TJ as we stood beside the coffin with Aunt
Irene sleeping beside us, “How did you meet?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He said, “Oh, it wasn’t easy. Her parents didn’t think she
should marry. I had to convince them, and she did too.” They celebrated 50
years of marriage, in 2010. They were a devoted couple.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He kept saying, “I thought I would go first.” He was four
years older than she.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He also said, “I don’t know what I will do without her. I
miss her so much. I think it won’t be long for me.” But he also said, “We don’t
know when or how we will go. I sure thought it would be me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My aunt was all of four foot and five, maybe six inches
tall. But for all her short stature she sure had a lot of spunk. That lady
could outdo me in energy when I was eleven. She could go and go; especially if
it was something she considered fun.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She loved places like Goodwill’s stores and Salvation Army
stores as well as yard sales. She loved to buy what she considered ‘bargains’;
but her purchases weren’t always the wisest. I remember when my family lived in
Indianapolis, one street over from my aunt and uncle’s place, and we would go
‘Goodwilling’ we would hit the big stores, and as you would go in, they would
have these big bags, labeled ‘grab-bags’; you couldn’t see what was in them,
and it could be anything. My aunt loved the surprise of what might be inside;
and rare was the time she would leave without sinking some money into a couple
of these ‘mystery bags’; well, I remember that after three or four times of
finding out the contents of those bags, how I, at 10 or 11 years old, lost my
zeal for them; but not Aunt Irene. It was like she kept hoping there would be
something wonderful in them, instead of hundreds of mismatched socks which had
not a single pair you could mate in the whole lot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mother would advise her, “Don’t waste your money on them,
Irene. They fill them with things they can’t put on the shelf; it is all about
a profit.” But she never listened; Aunt Irene was head-strong; she always got her
way, and for some reason she believed that every bag had to hold something
wonderful.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think it was the thrill of the surprise in store for her
that spurred her on; whatever disappointment she had last time didn’t matter;
this time it was going to be great.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her enthusiasm was contagious. She would sweep in with cheer
and be gone in minutes, but leave behind people who were either very happy or
totally pissed off; maybe the pissed off ones were jealous that she could
breeze around so gaily and not see how miserable life could be sometimes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She knew I was an artist, and long about the time I was
nineteen and going to college, in my first semester, she came to visit. We
lived a block from a small corner store, and she was saying how she wanted to
make up for missing Christmas with us. She would get us whatever we wanted. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mama and Aunt Irene went to that store, since it was close
by. They brought back some food to eat, as well as things she said were gifts
for us. I don’t remember what she gave the others, but I know she handed me a
bag and said, “Here’s Christmas, Sissy.” She called Mama, and Aunt Athlene as
well as me ‘Sissy’; everybody was her sister even if they weren’t. “I got you
art supplies.” She beamed a grin so huge it was blinding.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The package had crayons and a coloring book in it. “We can
color together, Sweety.” She giggled. She rushed off to do something else, and
I said, “Art supplies are a sketchbook and coloring pencils, Aunt Irene.” My
mother gave me a disapproving frown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought how that would have been great about seven years
earlier, but not to the college kid I was right then.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But to Aunt Irene, coloring in coloring books was a great
art project. She loved putting puzzles together too. She was a big kid who
never grew up, even though she got married and aged with the passing years.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That was why her folks had been hesitant to let her marry
Uncle TJ. They knew she was mentally on the young side and only when they knew
she would be better off having a husband take care of her rather than being
shunted back and forth between family members who would keep her until she did
something that grated their nerves and they would ship her off to the next
family to keep her a few months, did they agree to let her marry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She was married in 1960; prior to that, she spent several
short stays with her brother ‘Uchee’ and his wife ‘Sylvie’ aka Utah and Sylvia,
my parents. I was born in 1958. And before she married in 1960, I have several
memories of Aunt Irene staying with us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My first memory that included her was when we lived on
Morris Street. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For years, whenever I heard Morris Street mentioned it
sounded like they were saying Mars Street; until one day we passed by and they
pointed at the place where we lived when I was a baby. Able to read, I said,
“That says Morris Street.” I was informed, “Yes, that’s Mars Street.” I
concluded it was the same word, it was just that its Kentucky drawl sounded
different than its spelling; I also remember when my Uncle Ricky was married the first time, his wife’s name
went from ‘Rita’ to ‘Reeder’ when spoken by Granny Law, her mother-in-law.
Since I had taken a speech class in first grade to learn how to pronounce my
letters more clearly, I had become more conscious in the benefit of good
pronunciation and took some pride in not telling people my name was ‘Jewwiann
Waw’. I still to this day sometimes have to spell my name to keep from being
called such things as Jo Lynn or Mary Anne, but how people get that out of
Jerriann, I think the problem lies in them, not me. Aunt Irene mostly called me
Jerri, if she wasn’t saying Sissy. I didn’t mind, too much, although only
people very close to me got that privilege; I prefer the whole ‘Jerriann.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was a day that Mama took Holly and me, as well as Aunt
Irene downtown. We lived a few blocks away, and it was a nice day for a walk. I
was in the stroller, it was one of the fifties style, metal, and a dark blue.
We had to cross back and forth over the railroad crossing. It was on the way
back that something happened that jogged this memory into the groove so that I
retain it to this day. It wasn’t my very first memory, but it is one of my
earliest and I was only a few months old. I’m not sure if this was before or
after my first year birthday, but it was around that time. We didn’t live on
Morris Street for very long. I think we moved to Henderson in early 1959, but
whether it was before my birthday in March, I can’t say. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We started to cross the tracks just up from the street we
lived on. Since there was more than me
in that stroller; it held whatever Mama had bought downtown, too; it was pretty
heavy. A wheel got stuck in the tracks. Mama was trying her best to get the
stroller lose, jerking back and forth, and then Aunt Irene starting jumping up
and down, as she held my sister’s hand, yelling, “Train, the train is coming.”
Well, I saw this creature; and it was scary. Big and black, one-eyed and
screaming like a black cat, a very angry one; and I started crying, squalling.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mama wouldn’t grab me and go, she wanted that stroller and
me off the tracks; maybe a dumb thing to do, but in that instance she succeeded.
Just at the last second, she got it loose, as well as me, in it; and we all
rushed to the safety of the other side; none worse for wear, except that it
scared me so bad, I couldn’t stop crying. I kept seeing that ‘big black panther,’
just like what Mama kept on the coffee table, only so much more gigantic. I
knew, even as that squalling baby, it just about chewed us up for lunch. I had
flashbacks for days after that; nightmares, and then gradually, it just phased
into a memory as other life experiences came along.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, my Dad worked as a lineman, and he had been spending
weeks at a time away from home, leaving Mama to fend for herself with two
little girls; that was why she welcomed Irene to come stay with us; it would
help free her up from constant baby watching while she did her chores, plus
Irene could help with that some too. And they did give her some pocket money.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we moved to Mrs. Melton’s apartment on Main Street in
Henderson, at first Irene wasn’t there, but after awhile, she begged them into
allowing her to come stay; she got tired of being at her parents’ house and
wanted a change of scenery.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mama welcomed her there, even though it meant another mouth
to feed, but since she could get Irene to help her with us, and maybe ease her
burden, she was fine with it, and as long as Irene behaved and minded her and Daddy,
then it was okay for her to be there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She would come for a few weeks; and at first it would be
pretty good, but then Irene would start acting up, doing mischievous things that upset Mama and finally
Daddy would agree, she had wore out her welcome, and back home she would go.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Irene would kiss old guys on the street for a nickel or
dime; they thought it was funny to see her pucker for a kiss; when Holly told
Mama what Irene was doing, Mama would steam and tell Daddy who laughed like it
was the funniest thing, but Mama said ‘no good would come of it.’ She told
Irene she ‘better stop it or one of them would ask her for more than a kiss one
day and did she want to end up in a ditch, dead, for stupidity?’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She had some friends; one was a young fella, Billy Joe, who
had gotten sent to reform school, and she had the hots for him. Her running
around in his company was very much against my Mama’s wishes. Irene got to
slipping off to be with him, and
sometimes, she would leave five year old Holly to tend after me, when
Mama had left us in the care of Irene, who was around 22 or 23 at the time, but
acted more like a ten or twelve year old. The young guy was the son of the lady
who lived in the other apartment, her name was Rosie, and I loved Rosie. ‘Billy
Joe, though, was a punk’, Mama said, ‘and he would hurt Irene.’ She didn’t
trust him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One evening, a cop arrested Billy Joe on the sidewalk out
front. We saw it from the window. Irene started freaking and Mama had to grab
her and clamp her hand over her mouth; she wanted to run down there and stop
that cop, but instead she got a resounding face slap from Mama who told her she
was an ‘utter fool.’ I never saw Billy Joe again; he must have done a more
serious deed that jailed him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After that, Irene went back home, but she came back a few
months later. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few other things, I remember. One was when Irene would
talk Holly into playing a game called ‘Jail’ and that required us as the
prisoners and she was the guard. The bars were the rails on the end of our
parents’ footboard. They had a metal bed. We would press our faces against the
bars and she would feed us bread and a cup of water. Or deny it if we were
‘bad’; one time, playing this game, I pushed forward and got my head stuck in
between two of the rails, and by the time I was released, it felt like my ears
were half torn away from all the tugging Irene had attempted, before Mama came
in to find out why I was crying so much.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Irene was forbidden to play that game with us anymore. She
did like to do dress-up, and I think she is the one got Holly into liking to
play dress-up games; I remember one day when I was four I finally told my
sister ‘no’ for the first time ever. I will go into that memory in Holly’s
story, so I’ll hold that thought.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Irene would get in a ‘house cleaning’ mood, which mainly
involved the kitchen cabinets. And this would be when Mama was busy elsewhere;
so it was this big thing to Holly and me, how Mama was in for a big surprise.
True, but not a pleasant one, because Irene did this same thing more than once,
and every time she would lose steam, lose interest and go running off with her
friends, for just a minute, she would tell Holly; Mama would get back find us
alone; a bad thing; but the messed up kitchen would really blow her top. She
would be ready to chew Irene up and spit her out; she was that angry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Repentant, Irene would swear never again to leave ‘the girls’
alone or make a mess and leave it before it was finished up. Promises she
couldn’t keep and Mama knew it, but she had to accept it anyway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And there was the day it finally stuck in my head that
people could lie and that I could be blamed for it. It was one of those
epiphany moments; and it was a shock to me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mama had a very pretty clock that Daddy had bought her and
brought it back with him, when he was discharged from the army. It was a clock
the likes of which I have never seen one like it again, in my life. I think it
must have been fairly rare; for sure it was here in the states. It was made of
china, not a very big clock, maybe ten or twelve inches tall. Dainty, a kind of
pendulum run clock, but the unique part was it had a little china girl in a
swing. She would swing on the hour; I’m not sure if she also swung on the
quarter hour or half hour, but for sure she did every hour, and I liked to
watch it, for she was very pretty, and I marveled over it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, Mama kept it on the mantel over the fireplace; it was
a high mantel; Irene could not reach it from just her standing on tiptoe; so
she decided, under the guise of dusting that she would get up there closer
because she wanted to touch it. When she was on the chair she was reaching out
and somehow her grip was bad, and the clock slid and crashed on the floor,
hitting the hearth and smashing into so many pieces there was no fixing it back
together.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mama heard the noise and rushed in from the kitchen; she
took in the whole room in a fast scan; I was on the floor over by the window;
and there was the chair and there was Irene nearby; but then Aunt Irene blurted
out, “Jerriann did it.” And Mama went into a fiery inferno; it was a fearful
sight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grabbed her by her hair, she started slapping Irene, not
just for breaking the clock, which was one of the few things Mama had she truly
loved and considered priceless, a treasure, but because Irene had tried to
blame me, and her lying to her made her
angrier than ever.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If she had shown remorse and admitted she did it, Mama would
have taken the loss easier and not been as upset, sorrowed but not that angry;
I know this because I heard Mama talk about it later and that’s what she said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember how my mouth fell open when Aunt Irene said my
name and that I broke it; I know too, the only reason she tried to say it was
me was because five year old Holly wasn’t there and I was. I think Holly had
been with Daddy at the time; she would sometimes go with Daddy to the store;
not sure where she was at that particular time, but she wasn’t there when the
clock fell, because I was a bad choice to blame, being as I was learning to
walk about then, and not able to move a chair, climb in it and then up to the
mantel still more feet over my head; I think it would have been difficult for
Holly, too, at five years old; so Irene was the only one who could have pulled
it off, and she was the one, because I watched her, not guessing what was about
to happen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mama cried about that loss, and Irene knew she had earned
Mama’s wrath.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She played cool a little while, because she didn’t want to
be sent home; for the most part she liked to stay with my parents; she had fun
there in Henderson, and back home it was endless chores. She didn’t mind
helping out some as long as it wasn’t an all day long thing, she wanted to
spend time with her friends; she was a big ‘little’ kid, after all.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The apartment we lived in was in a really old building that
was built either in the late 1800s or the early 1900s; the upstairs had been
turned into apartments. We had the front apartment, and Rosey and her family
lived at the back. There was a skylight and it was over an open area that
looked all the way down to the first floor where Mrs. Melton lived, and also ran
a sewing and notions shop.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Irene loved the circus entertainers, especially the
tight-rope walkers and the flying trapeze artists. Well, one day Irene got it
in her head she was going to walk all the way around the railing and come back,
and she did it a time or two, but then she had to throw in a twist to this; she
grabbed me and got her chair in place and up she went; Holly went and got Mama
and when she saw Irene with me on that railing, she about had a stroke. She was
saying, “Irene get down from there now; you will fall and kill my child.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Irene had been laughing, but when she saw that Mama was so
upset, and didn’t agree that this was a cool tight-rope balancing act kind of
trick, but instead was a ‘fool stunt,’ she froze and then her ankles did begin
to jiggle, and seeing Mama made me want down, so I think we did come close
there for a few seconds, but Mama managed to get close enough that she grabbed
hold of both of us and pulled us down to safety. She was so relieved, she
hugged us both, but later when Daddy got home and she told him, he was not so
delighted by the news.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This time, they both agreed Aunt Irene had gone too far.
They would take her home as soon as they could get the money for a trip south;
but before that happened, yet another memory occurred and this one was even a
bit more ominous, if that’s possible. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember this incident because of the long wait and the
frustration, even fear my mother had, and it stuck in my memory. It started off
a seemingly fun and relatively harmless event. It was late summer and the town
had a fair and there were rides set up. Cotton candy, hot dogs and drinks were for
sale.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was one attraction that Aunt Irene was totally excited
about. It was called the Haunted Mill. At the top of this wooden contraption,
painted with spooks and big goofy country bloke type millers with sickles in
one hand and handfuls of wheat in the other, while bales of hay were banked
around the bottom in piles, along with corn shuck displays,was a catwalk balcony. Everything had
a garish splash of red paint spotted to resemble blood. My mother, at first,
refused to go in the place. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But with much coaxing, Mama agreed, taking me and Holly,
too. My sister was to stay close to Aunt Irene because most of the walk around
inside was done in the dark or with red filtered bulbs. As soon as we were out
of there, my Mother only then let her tight grip on me loosened; she told me I
had been a good girl because I hadn’t cried, but for her one trip in was
enough.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aunt Irene wanted to
go back in with Holly, but Mama said, “No, Irene, we need to go home.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Irene pleaded; and finally Mama gave her enough money for
one more ticket, but no, my sister wasn’t going along. So she went in with some
others in line, a couple of the girls Aunt Irene knew. We watched them go in at
the Haunted Mill doorway which was boarded so it looked slanted. This time she
went in, and we watched for when she would come out near the top and in view while on the balcony cat-walk type protrusion, which stretched a few feet, before
going in the door that had the circular flight of stairs that led down to the
ground.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here is where it got scary, because the people Irene went in
with made their rounds inside and came our on that balcony and we watched for
Irene, and she wasn’t with them and they went across, giggling like everything
was fine, and then in the door that had the steps down to the exit, but as they
all came out, none of them was Aunt Irene; well, Mama got worried. She ran over
and asked those girls about Irene, they said, “Oh, wasn’t she before us?” But
no, she told them if she had been then she would be with her and she wouldn’t
be asking them. Oh it made Mama mad, but she was worried too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m not leaving until I find Irene,” she swore, so she went
to the guy at the door and demanded to know where her sister-in-law was. At
first it was this head-shaking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“They’ve all left, and I’m shutting this down for the day.
Maybe she slipped off with a friend; go home; she’s probably already there.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, she knew better than to do that. I was waiting and she
knew it. If you don’t go in there and find her I am getting the police over
here.” She meant it, and he knew it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seeing her fiery face, red hair and angry green eyes and the
claws she was beginning to curl out toward him, the dude backed off. “Hold on,
let me go look. If she’s not in there, I’ll get the police for you; I certainly
don’t want nothing bad happening in connection to my funhouse.” So he told her
to stay there with me and my sister and he disappeared inside.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a while before the man came out, and he had Irene by
the arm. She was disheveled and holding her head. The man said he found her on
the floor and thought she must have hit her head; we took her home and for a
while she acted strange; her energy seemed sapped, she didn’t want to go out
with her friends, was rare to get out of bed; she had bruises on her arms as
well as her head; just what had happened to her remained a mystery because she
wouldn’t tell Mama or Daddy, or anybody; she said she didn’t remember. If it
was that somebody jumped her, hurt her in there or if it was an accident she
did on her own, whatever the truth, we never knew; and depending on the true
severity of it, maybe it was a blessing Irene couldn’t remember, either.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once she began to improve, she told them she wanted to go
home and she went. Sometime after that we moved; first to Payne’s and then to
North Alvis Street. I turned three there and Holly started in the first grade.
Aunt Irene came to visit with Uncle TJ Harville; either just before they got
married or right after. This would have been either still in 1960 or in 1961;
when it comes to dates, I’m not so good at recalling exactly; but I do know we
moved there from the Payne house just after thanksgiving and had Christmas
there in the new house, which Mama and Daddy decided they would buy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After that, a period of several years went by. And it was
after we moved to Indianapolis when Charles was like 2 to 3 years old, that I
have memories with Irene and Uncle TJ, in their house near Beech Grove, a
sub-burg of Indianapolis, Indiana.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We stayed at their house a few days, until a place could be
found to move; I never understood why my folks moved so far downtown that it was the once opulent
old side of town we ended up living. Mama had a couple of brothers down that
way, but still not that close to where we moved.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, when we moved again, it was to a house owned by some
people named Underwood; they had all four of the houses on the north end of
Oakland Avenue. This was one street over from the street Aunt Irene lived on. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I won’t go into every iota that included Irene in it; there
are too many to cover in a short space. I will just say that she certainly was
colorful; and her actions much bigger than her size.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She had both a loving nature as well as a spiteful side to
her. She would hurt my mother by going by in front of our house with Mama’s
two nieces and others in tow and sometimes ignore that Mama was standing in the
yard; she also would make like she wasn’t home when she would be in her house
and either Mama and her three children came over, or maybe my sister and I had
come over, usually because Mama had sent us. We would hear the whispering,
maybe giggling and the ‘Shh’ remarks; it made us get so we wouldn’t go visit
them; the message was clear; she didn’t always welcome us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the time she
talked Mama into letting us come help her to clean her house, and then when TJ
got home she threw a fit and said we were ‘messing-gommers;’ saying she had
worked all day, house-cleaning, and we were trying to mess it up; that was when
we had started to sit on the couch, but Uncle TJ knew she had used us, and then
lied, trying to claim she did it on her own. He didn’t say a thing about him
knowing the truth of it; just said we had better go home now; and the money we
had been promised, we never received; that was it for my sister; by then I was
11 and she was 14 and she was getting tired of people with ‘two-faced’ ways.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One day, they were having a big to-do at their house and
several kin on both sides were there. The yard was full; they were planning a
BBQ; not sure if it was Memorial Day weekend or 4<sup>th</sup> of July or
something else. I just remember that Charles had been standing on their little
porch stoop and suddenly there’s a huge fight breaking out over my little brother
having pushed our little cousin Patty
Sue off the porch; I saw it but did no good; he was guilty according to all of
them. She lost her balance; he was on the other side not even looking at her at
the moment, and then it was pandemonium when the crying started; and Charles
was still standing on the porch, which made them all suspect he shoved at her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My daddy had to step into the cat-fight and break it all up;
but after that Mama was ready to go home. She didn’t want to talk to her nieces
or two sister-in-laws or any of them; and I told her what I saw and she was
really upset then. Blaming her boy when he was innocent, but then that was
right up Aunt Irene’s alley, Mama said, referring to all these past days.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But there were some good times...one memory was one time
when we were with Mama over there. On
the TV I watched a show that gave me nightmares that night. It was the movie
with Bette Davis and Olivia DeHaviland set in Louisiana at one of the fine
plantation houses that still remains down there. <b>Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte</b>; I recognized it at age eleven as being
a Classic Horror movie, although I didn’t know how to describe it like that
back then.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was impressed with it, because we had lived down there and
I had seen moss draped trees and big houses like that and heard the dialect of
the people, and ate its food and gone to school and walked the streets; it was
a place that won my heart; to this day I love Louisiana and miss it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But on top of this, the story was about an axe murderer and
Bette Davis played the killer, Charlotte; she killed her lover at a party
her father was having; but she had spent a long time in the asylum, and was
finally back home, and improving; she was an heiress, and would inherit a good
sized bundle plus the house. There was a
song, very haunting, a tune played on the piano; Charlotte could play it, but sometimes
at night she would hear that song and go down in time to see a man, the one she
thought she had killed; she started believing the ghost of her former lover was
playing the piano; but every time she got down the stairs, he would already be
gone; her cousin, Olivia, had returned from somewhere, too, and she would be
the support-buddy, acting compassionate. The story grew more suspenseful as it
reached the end, having a twist that revealed the truth about the mystery of
that night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Olivia had played the long suffering friend to Scarlett O’Hara
and the wife of Ashley, Scarlett’s secret love interest. In <b>Gone With the Wind</b>, all the way through
the story Olivia’s character had been meek, humble, gentle, kind, generous and
enduringly loyal; she has everyone’s sympathy and she was a big part of the
reason people disliked Scarlett, because they were so different. This was one
of both my mother and Aunt Irene’s favorite shows and she had gone with us to
the drive-in in Henderson. So when she saw that Olivia as well as Bette was in
the show she wanted to watch it; she got a surprise how scary <b>Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte</b> was, and so
did my mother and sister. We all sat there on the edge of our seats or hugged
and jumped in the scariest parts; such times as this was some of the best
moments.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Uncle TJ loved fishing, so one time; he talked Daddy
into going with him</span> a few miles North, outside of Indianapolis<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">to the Reservoir
and Mississinewa Lake; it was our family and Aunt
Irene and Uncle TJ; that was one of the best ever times; they rented a cabin;
we fished, hiked, cooked out, I got a sunburn from the light reflecting off the
lake. I was wearing a black dress with a purple violet like print on the border
and I remember that was the first time I felt truly ‘pretty’; Mama took one
picture of me in that dress where I walked along the side of the road with
these big trees like a forest beside and behind me; but others would say, 'girl,
you bloomed that day.' It was truly one of the finest times we ever spent with
them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We ate the fish caught by my dad and
uncle; Daddy wasn’t much into fishing but he had an uncanny way of out-catching
anybody he went with; he would say, “Don’t get mad; I don’t try to outdo
anybody; fish just love the fly to my pole best.” It was all in good humor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I
tried to fish too, but my catch was nothing that stands out, not like me in
that violet dress. I was 10 and maturing; already starting to fill out my tops,
on my way to becoming a young woman. Strange that it was on that fishing trip I
found myself truly being glad I was female.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Wasn’t too long after that, my maternal
grandmother passed away; something that broke my mother’s heart, and she never
truly got over losing Granny. We had to travel back down home; stayed a few
days, and then returned as soon as the funeral was over; the school didn’t like
that I had been going about four or five days, but Mama came in herself and
explained about the loss; I had quite a bit of homework to catch up on, and so
did Holly at her school; because Daddy and Irene’s aunt Eula Mae was married to
Mama’s brother Earl, which in an in-law way, made Mama their Aunt by marriage and
Granny a Great-Aunt; Aunt Irene and her husband as well as a number of others on Daddy’s side came to the funeral in September,1968. That was 44 years ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Aunt Irene had a full life, with many
fun events laced into her life; much I never knew about; in her later years,
she developed Arthritis and had back problems, added on some extra weight; I think
too she was diabetic. She had a surgery or two and came thru with a rebound
that is typical of us Law people. But then came the gall bladder surgery that
put her in a nursing home about the same time as my sister. Aunt Irene made it
to the 8<sup>th</sup> of May, ten days after my sister passed away. Her husband
took the blow well; but he was truly grieving; he loved his little woman; her
sister, my Aunt Athlene said on the way to the funeral, “well brother, it’s you
and me; we will have to watch after each other; sissy would have wanted us to.”
He was just stunned by her loss, missing her so much. They let me ride with
them as I had no other ride. I had been dropped off there by my brother and his
wife. Patty Sue, Aunt Athlete’s oldest daughter, drove her mother’s car, behind
the hearse to the cemetery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ther service went well; I ended up
sitting on top of my Aunt Shirley’s grave, theirs was next to The plots TJ had
purchased for them, a few years earlier; they already had a headstone too;
whereas both Uncle Jesse and Aunt Shirley had only name holders; their three
kids have not provided this for them, but maybe soon they will. Larry stood by
me; he was the one took me home. Just before we were to leave Uncle TJ wanted
his wife to have a light; she never liked the dark; always had a nightlight;
maybe a flashback to that Haunted Mill incident? I said to Patty Sue, “Jesus is
the light, you know.” She nodded, “yes, but TJ wanted her to have it; I put it
in her hand.” That was an act of kindness, to placate her husband; showing
their love. Goodnight, Irene.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I will miss you. I love you, yes,
goodnight, Aunt Irene; no more bedbugs to bite. No more pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Did the flashlight lead you on the sacred
path? I hope so. But greater is the light of the soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">©May 16<sup>th</sup> , to the 18<sup>th</sup>,
Jerriann Law </span></div>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-64255112403148471632012-03-23T22:50:00.004-07:002012-03-24T15:19:03.642-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Spring is here; time to go fishing and cook on the grill. </div>
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Spring is when the weather warms up; no more chills; </div>
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Friends gather round, eat merrily and get their fill. </div>
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Spring; listen to the birds sing; </div>
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Yes, it’s time to give your sweety that diamond ring. </div>
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Look around at the bright colours spring brings. </div>
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Spring arrives on the equinox; March 21st is spring’s first day, </div>
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That is when we should thank God, and pray; </div>
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You hope winter cold is gone and with spring, there’s no delay. </div>
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As the air gets warm, the flowers begin to bloom. </div>
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The birds lay their eggs and protect their young from doom. </div>
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Young chirp so loud to be fed, it'll enter a window of your room. </div>
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Farmers, plant gardens, hoping for an abundant yield. </div>
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Soon, the yards will be grassy, wide, and tall as a grassy field; </div>
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Everybody who wants a garden, know the soil must be tilled. </div>
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Time to get out the lawnmower and the pruning shears. </div>
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Those wild onions; oh, how they bring on the tears, </div>
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But the scent is what makes cut grass smell like spring is here. </div>
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Time to go outside and yell loudly, and even scream in delight. </div>
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It’s warm, and everyone stays out longer at night </div>
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As the wind picks up that spring breeze, kids play with a kite. </div>
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You’ll hear the kids in the neighborhood, having fun, </div>
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What happens when down goes the sun? </div>
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Through backyards, front yards, alleys and parks, kids run. </div>
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So what do you think of beautiful spring? </div>
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Aren’t you glad it is spring? </div>
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Beautiful as anything I have ever seen’, we sing. </div>
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Beauty like this is only found during the spring </div>
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Hold me tight; I want what’s right; it’s no fling; </div>
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Love me in the winter; you’ll love me more, come spring. </div>
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©JD Couch and JA Wayahowl Law, (March 22, 2012)</div>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-26074778625259241122012-03-14T06:48:00.002-07:002012-03-14T06:50:49.267-07:00<br />
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"Do You Ever Sit and Wonder"<br />
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Far away in the deep blue sky, I hear a clap of thunder.<br />
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It hasn’t started raining yet, but here I sit and ponder<br />
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We should be glad of thunder storms; the rain<br />
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Keeps the air fresh and the ground from drying up,<br />
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The plants thrive and animals stay alive.<br />
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Streams continue to fill and travel out to the sea.<br />
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Do you ever sit and wonder,<br />
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What earth would be like without the rain?<br />
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Far away in the deep, blue sky, I hear a clap of thunder.<br />
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I think about another time I will never see,<br />
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Where this World will be beat down by the sun’s heat,<br />
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So strong it dries up the clouds, and the ground cracks asunder.<br />
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What can live on a world so dry?<br />
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It would be a world devoid of living substance<br />
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Even the rocks will turn to dust<br />
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Will a wind still blow across the sky?<br />
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No longer will man care to track the stars or even know to cry.<br />
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Far away in the deep, blue sky, I hear a clap of thunder.<br />
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Do you ever sit and wonder?<br />
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It’s late at night; nothing but darkness is what I see.<br />
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The flash of lightning was hidden to me.<br />
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I wonder just what things in life are hidden away<br />
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Things we never know a glimmer about, each day;<br />
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We each are allowed certain things in life to live,<br />
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No two people, not even in the same family,<br />
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Know exactly the same, for we each have our own perspective<br />
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And we each have our own desires and opinions<br />
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No two people will have the exact same reactions,<br />
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So the way we treat our Earth, is there any wonder?<br />
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We were made to lend a hand and to love one another.<br />
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Every man on Earth, God made a brother.<br />
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Why don't we do the right thing and help each other?<br />
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Does it mean a storm of despair?<br />
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Far away in the deep, blue sky, I hear a clap of thunder.<br />
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© JD Couch (3-25-2010) JA Wayahowl(3-13-2012)<br />Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-4686430681513338112012-01-30T15:38:00.000-08:002012-01-30T15:38:41.352-08:00<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Voice of God in the Light</span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Snowhawk, I don't let anybody run over me, I can’t; it’s not in me to do that, sister;</span></div>
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If they talk to me nicely, I will respect them as they do me;</div>
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If not, then I do unto others as they do to me; I give back as good as I get.</div>
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Windhawk: I’ve been thinking how letting that woman’s remark,</div>
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From back in 1988, still get to me is just what the devil loves;</div>
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We’re feeding the devil to hold on to old grudges.</div>
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Snowhawk: Jesus said,”I say unto you resist not an evil person,</div>
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But if some one slaps one cheek, turn the other”;</div>
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But also he doesn’t say what to do on that third strike.</div>
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Windhawk: If you are a grudge holder; that will be too big a bundle on your back,</div>
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And it will stop you from entering through the gates of heaven.</div>
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Snowhawk: If someone is trying to kill you, is that not evil?</div>
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Windhawk: Yes, of course it is.</div>
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Snowhawk: I don’t hold a grudge and I do forgive, but I never forget;</div>
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It’s an Indian thing, as well as a family thing.</div>
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Windhawk: But they say even attempted murderers and rapists need to be forgiven,</div>
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By the victim; yet!</div>
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Snowhawk: I have walked away from more fights</div>
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Than stayed at fights I have fought and won.</div>
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Windhawk: Forgiveness frees the victim of the hold</div>
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That evil act placed on the victim.</div>
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If the victim resents and hates without stopping,</div>
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That ties the victim to that murdering rapist.</div>
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Snowhawk: Yes, but something like murder, true judgment goes to God for</div>
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No one can hurt them more than God;</div>
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There is but one who can destroy, both body and soul, in hellfire, and that is God.</div>
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Windhawk: That’s exactly what evil wants; the ties to it;</div>
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Hate keeps them bound to them; Hate is binding;</div>
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Love and forgiveness can set you free.</div>
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Snowhawk: Yes, I agree. I have forgiven a lot of trespasses in my day.</div>
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But I am also a very private person, always have been.</div>
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Windhawk: Love your enemy as yourself, hard as that can be to do;</div>
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Windhawk: I think of all the people sitting in prisons...so many</div>
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Feel hopeless; so many are unloved, and despised and feared.</div>
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Windhawk: Many will never see the light of day.</div>
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Snowhawk: Many will never be forgiven.</div>
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Windhawk: Many will never know a true friend.</div>
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Snowhawk: But we do; we are true friends, sister;</div>
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So I know only one, and you know only one;</div>
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Windhawk: They seek the end with a bleak hopelessness;</div>
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An empty void yawns ahead of them.</div>
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Snowhawk: Yes you know, I think now, its Romans</div>
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That says; fear not what man can do to you,</div>
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But fear the one who can destroy both body and soul in hell;</div>
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So if I fear man is that not a sin?</div>
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Windhawk: Only Jesus can redeem man, but many refuse Jesus,</div>
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And they do so, with a confirmed hatred in their hearts,</div>
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Because they hate churches and people in them, who</div>
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They feel turned away; and because the people erred, they turn from God, too.</div>
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Windhawk: Fear can destroy both body and soul, so if you fear anything, you are vulnerable;</div>
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Snowhawk: This is true; fear leaves them in that darkness</div>
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And truly, without any hope left for them, if they continue to refuse God,</div>
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They have chosen to be lost in their sin.</div>
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But if they cry out for help, and listen to the voice of God in the light;</div>
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The darkness and the fear will fall away,</div>
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And they shall be saved;</div>
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Everyone has that option; to live and die in sin</div>
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Or to live and die and rise again through the redeeming blood of the Savior;</div>
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He died for us all, but we must seek him out and accept his love as our own salvation.</div>
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© JD Couch and JA Wayahowl (1-30-2012)</div>
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</div>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-3231952239278362552012-01-23T13:49:00.000-08:002012-01-23T13:49:11.558-08:00<br />
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When the Windhawk Talks</div>
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<br /></div>
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I am a listener, a hawk of the wind.</div>
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I float on currents</div>
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Of thermal waves, listening to the mysteries </div>
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Circulating on the air; I </div>
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Translate what I learn into things I</div>
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Can share: stories, poems, and paintings;</div>
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This is done so
others learn</div>
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Life is full of
deeper meanings.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I'm a hawk of the wind, and I</div>
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Have an abiding
affinity</div>
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With creatures in the world,</div>
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For they tell me
secrets.</div>
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Cats are eavesdroppers who whisper to me </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Their gleanings; wolves, wisely shy,</div>
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Keep to
civilization's edge, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then safely</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Distant, these silent watchers howl </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Truths, from 20 miles away!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Dragonflies: light-dancers; </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Praying Mantis: silent-golden;</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Butterflies: change-bearers; </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Scarabs: fate-keepers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All act as Harbingers
of change;</div>
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A listener always
comes prepared.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Being Windhawk, I turn from no one</div>
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Under the sun;</div>
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I know when to listen, </div>
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When to speak truly,</div>
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And when it is time to
fight;</div>
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The quiet-time is past. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Now, others must learn truth. Listen, ye.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Listen to the words spin</div>
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Magic nets of dawning
around thee!</div>
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I'm here to teach anyone who will listen. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When the Windhawk talks,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The mysteries of the universe are</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An open book; miss not a word. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jerriann Wayahowl Law </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Copyright ©2012 Jerriann Law</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(this was previously published in an anthology, in 2003, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
in a slightly different format.)</div>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-70519151519545819372012-01-23T10:09:00.001-08:002012-03-24T15:39:49.450-07:00<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Black', sans-serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Black', sans-serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24px;">The Book</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Black', sans-serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">The book is the tool for those who seek knowledge.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">You can find them everywhere, including your local College.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">A book will tell you about the lives of famous people who</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Made a mark in history and got recorded for posterity.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">You will learn of other lands in travel books;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">You will read poetry that you will want to read again and again,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">You’ll laugh; you’ll say,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> “Oh, my!” and you’ll weep.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Or gasp at horror stories that put you on the edge of the seat,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And keep you awake, unable to sleep;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">They even write books that will help interpret your dreams.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">You can read books which will help you fix anything.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Fix a computer, fix a meal or fix a car!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">A book has unlimited potential and will take you far.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">There are books which will teach you how to play guitar.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">There are books which will teach you how to sing</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Like an Opera Star!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Or any other kind of singer that you admire!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Books will direct you and you must understand</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And then you can be that Big Singing Star.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">A book is the way to step into the middle of a Murder Mystery</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And you’ll be the sleuth solving the crimes!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And yes, having a blast without getting bruised up! The time</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Of your life will be surrounded by the word imagery</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> You experience, reading the book of your choice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Believe it or not, inside your mind, a book makes a beautiful noise.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">You’ll find it such a fascination, you’ll think about it between readings;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">When you are a lover of books, you’ll be a lover, all of your days.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">You can read a romance about broken love: oh, how</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It makes your heart sting!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And the struggle to find a lasting love: oh, how</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It makes your heart sing!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">A book will transport you into other worlds</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">With bigger than life worries and troubles: oh how</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Much courage it takes to face such woes!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">And you are right there in the thick of it, fighting foes!</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Whatever misery or whatever triumph takes place</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Inside a book, when you read it, you become a part of it;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Its experiences become real in the mind of a reader.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">If it is well written and full of action, you can’t put it down,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Not until the very last word: that is the power of a good book.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Yes, go on to your local library, set right down and have a look;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">I am sure you will find yourself a really good book.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">The Bible is the book for one and all,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">They say it is the greatest book of all;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It was the first choice of books to be translated</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Into the Cherokee Language by Sequoya;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">The Good Book will help you up, should you ever fall.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It teaches us to pray through good times and bad times;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It teaches us God is there with us through it all.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It shows us the right path to salvation and everlasting love;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It will turn your life around and you will drop that knife;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">You’ll never harm a neighbor,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">For you always take care to never harm your-self.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">If we believe in Jesus Christ as our savior, he will be there at our call;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">When Judgment Day comes, we’ll stand beside him; both proud and tall.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Yes, come on people, open up your bible, and have a look.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It will help you no matter what your worry</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">In fact it will say:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;"> “Why Worry? Trust in the Lord.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">Give it over to God to handle;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">He will show you the way!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">If you need an unfailing guide, this book is <i>‘the Book’</i>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">It’s all you need for a happy life: the Book.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px;">©JD Couch and JA Wayahowl (1-6-2012)</span></div>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-49861044701450647952012-01-21T11:44:00.000-08:002012-01-21T11:45:18.183-08:00<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
THE WINTER WITCH<br />
Windhawk: Snowhawk, there’s nothing colder than a Winter Witch’s ass, so I’ve heard.<br />
Snowhawk: Windhawk, I’d say, I’ve heard of colder that a Well Digger’s ass,<br />
And hot as a Witch’s titty,<br />
But never quite that witchy twist of a saying;<br />
Windhawk: It’s a Kentucky saying; I reckon I’ve heard it all my life.<br />
And if you think of it, a Winter Witch’s ass must truly be frigid.<br />
Snowhawk: Yes, icicles on the ole asshairs,<br />
Windhawk: And it must be very windy whenever she farted.<br />
Snowhawk: Yes, she frosted the windows up, I bet.<br />
Windhawk: Quite fumy;<br />
Snowhawk: Yep, and ranky stanky;<br />
A stinky, ole fart windbag;<br />
Yes, oh, but at least she fumigated the air; <br />
Windhawk: Her broom held its nose and looked for a heater to hover over.<br />
Snowhawk: That’s a new meaning to Air Pollution.<br />
Yes, poor broom; one frozen stick, with her ass all astraddle!<br />
Because, if not; she’d crawl over to Rover the cat.<br />
Oh, dear, she might be too tipsy: the Asshole who missed the saddle.<br />
<br />
Windhawk: Well, I heard her charms, she used mainly to harm.<br />
Someone would lock her ass up in the barn.<br />
Snowhawk: But she’d bypass the farm.<br />
Too many animals bellowed in pain from her stinky fly-over.<br />
The Farmer couldn't breathe, so he meant to shoot her on sight.<br />
Windhawk: He thought she was a UFO!<br />
Snowhawk: He raised his gun and fired it into the night.<br />
Windhawk: She always escaped over his barn.<br />
She shot away, until only her gassy farts were a telltale red glow in the sky.<br />
Snowhawk: The Farmer’s Wife was very mad.<br />
She said, “You spend more time on that cold Witch’s ass than you do on me.”<br />
Windhawk: The Farmer said, “I can’t make her happy, cos I admit it; she’s right.”<br />
But then to her, he said, “Don’t worry, Baby; my love; you’ll always be my Honey-bun.”<br />
Snowhawk: He turned on the sugar, so sweet; it oozed like molasses.<br />
And soon, they forgot about any asses but their own.<br />
<br />
Windhawk: But the Wife saw the Winter Witch flying around outside, and<br />
She jumped up, and to the Farmer, she demanded, “Which you want to do:<br />
Kiss my ass or kiss that cold Witch’s ass out that window? Why won’t she leave us alone?”<br />
Snowhawk: They both hurried outside, and looked up to see:<br />
Around and around the barn, the Winter Witch on her broomstick, flew;<br />
The Wife said; “Keep your nose out of my business.”<br />
But then sparks hit the barn and up in flames, it shot and quickly it got very hot!<br />
Windhawk: The Wife screamed, “That Witch must go!”<br />
<br />
And as the Farmer tried to rescue the animals, and paid no attention,<br />
She stomped her foot, “I will put a stop to this!” She hissed.<br />
To her Husband, she yelled, “Don’t give me any more kisses!”<br />
Snowhawk: She ran toward the Witch, meaning to do her best to end the old Hag’s life.<br />
Well, the barn was all aglow; the Witch came flying back.<br />
Soaring in, like an Eagle on the attack;<br />
She aimed to knock the Wife flat of her back,<br />
But the Wife grabbed the Witch’s foot and yanked her off the broom.<br />
And then, they rolled in the grass;<br />
And dang, if the Witch didn’t fart a really big one out her ass;<br />
She started to swell as the Wife choked her neck;<br />
Snowhawk: Up, up, up, they both flew, as if headed straight to the moon.<br />
<br />
Snowhawk: But the Farmer took aim and shot the Witch in her ass,<br />
And like a balloon in deflate, in an erratic tumble, the two fell.<br />
The Farmer’s Wife had almost whipped the Witch’s ass.<br />
But that gigantic Fart had pooted so hard,<br />
They’d lifted up from the ground from the excess gas.<br />
Windhawk: The Farmer cried out, “Don’t leave me, Honey!”<br />
The Wife went sailing into the haystack and she landed, none too happy.<br />
Snowhawk: She lay there gasping for breath, flat of her back.<br />
Her Husband came running and lifted her up;<br />
He took her home and put her to bed,<br />
And he treated her like a baby, for the rest of her days.<br />
He promised, making sure the window screen was pulled down,<br />
“I will never make you mad, again, because of that gassy-assed Witch.”<br />
And he kept his word; if ever the Winter Witch flew by, he dared not even look at the sky.<br />
Whenever he smelled the stink of sulfur or rotten eggs,<br />
He’d sign it away with the Evil Eye.<br />
© JD Couch and JA Wayahowl, 1-11-2012Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-37490338671789338242012-01-19T08:06:00.001-08:002012-01-19T12:59:16.374-08:00<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Remember, With Love<br />
<br />
Windhawk: Small friends are with us, always.<br />
Little ones with fur; like children, we love them.<br />
We care for them.<br />
They come to us, tiny and afraid, hungry, lost.<br />
Snowhawk: Yes, several loved pets, I have had.<br />
One was a German Shepherd named King, a retired Police dog.<br />
Yes, he was my protector.<br />
He would not growl or bark, only bite the hell out of you!<br />
But that was only when he knew you were a threat to my safety.<br />
I loved King so much; I will never forget his love for me.<br />
He was my friend.<br />
Windhawk: Remember, with love.<br />
<br />
Windhawk: We hold them, cuddle them, and love them.<br />
We feed them well; we take them to the vet when they are sick.<br />
They look to us like we’re parents, not just as caretakers,<br />
Trusting us to react in a kindly fashion;<br />
A kind act will bring them into the fold; they are a part of the family!<br />
Snowhawk: They win a special place in our hearts, and we will never part.<br />
Once they have entered in, they never go out.<br />
They stay, and they love keeping us company;<br />
They give us so much in return. We love them, with all of our heart.<br />
Windhawk: Remember, with love<br />
<br />
Give in to their simplicity.<br />
Laugh at their antics.<br />
The silly things they do that bring laughter;<br />
Go ahead: laugh and they will love it.<br />
They are happy spirits and enjoy nothing better than hearing you laugh;<br />
If they brought the laughter, all the better,<br />
They will act even sillier; natural clowns.<br />
Snowhawk: And then you will have a friend for life, and they know it is true.<br />
Windhawk: Remember, with love.<br />
<br />
Windhawk: And even when something naughty gets done,<br />
You can't punish them; they won’t understand.<br />
Snowhawk: But in your eyes, there is nothing your pet can't do.<br />
Windhawk: You have to be stern and let them see they did a bad thing,<br />
But never ever be cruel;<br />
Snowhawk: If you do, people; then you are the fool.<br />
Windhawk: For your pet loves you unconditionally,<br />
And would protect you to the death!<br />
Snowhawk: I know if you pay attention, then you can see<br />
Windhawk: How much love you will receive!<br />
Windhawk: Your life quality is enriched with sweet furry ones in your home.<br />
Snowhawk: It is in God that we believe, just as your dog believes in you.<br />
Windhawk: God loves all the animals and set man as watch guard over them.<br />
Remember, with love.<br />
<br />
Snowhawk: And if you live in the country, your dog is free to roam.<br />
But he will always come back home.<br />
Windhawk: Man's best friend is his canine companion.<br />
Snowhawk: He can’t be without his master but just for so long.<br />
So treat them with kindness, showing them love from your heart.<br />
Windhawk: It is known that he will sit by his master’s grave,<br />
Waiting for his master to return;<br />
And he will die there by that grave, patiently devoted, unto death's gate;<br />
Such is the fate of the strength between the dog and man;<br />
Snowhawk: He is grieving for a life lost, a love so deep;<br />
There, he will lie there, by the grave, and he will yearn.<br />
So love them unconditionally, while you can; remember, with love.<br />
<br />
Windhawk: Seek to love everyone, with such deep abiding love.<br />
Snowhawk: A canine is a gift to man from God.<br />
God is watching over them all from above.<br />
Windhawk: Love is never lost, when it is so true,<br />
Snowhawk: If you don't believe that then who is the fool?<br />
Snowhawk: Dog spelled backwards is love. Dog spelled backwards is God!<br />
Windhawk: Sweet and true, loyal, and seeking to cure your blues;<br />
Dog spelled backwards truly does spell LOVE.<br />
Snowhawk: They are a blessing from God above.<br />
Windhawk: Truly, a blessing from God above;<br />
Windhawk: Remember your darlings, remember, with love.<br />
<br />
Snowhawk: Cherish the memories;<br />
They will protect you both day and night;<br />
They’re ready to die at your side.<br />
Windhawk: They ask only for your love, your care, to be fed<br />
And when sick, enough concern to be taken to the vet,<br />
So they can hang around a little longer, for their life span is short,<br />
But a well cared for friend can live many years,<br />
When they are your dear!<br />
Snowhawk: But most of anything, they need your love.<br />
Windhawk: Remember, with love.<br />
<br />
Snowhawk: The same as God, who loves us, from high above,<br />
And sees that we are taken care of; so too,<br />
We should care for the little furry ones.<br />
Snowhawk: And don’t forget: Dog spelled backwards is God<br />
Windhawk: God has a great affinity for the dog, a friend unto the end;<br />
Snowhawk: He is with the Heavenly Father,<br />
God’s love is unconditional, shining love<br />
Down upon man and canine alike;<br />
Windhawk: So remember, remember, with love; remember, with love.<br />
©JD Couch and JA Wayahowl, 1-18-2012</div>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2958854522714665913.post-63332455016850187162012-01-17T16:09:00.000-08:002012-01-23T12:33:15.886-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
No More Loneliness<br />
<br />
Snowhawk: Can someone tell me how they cope with loneliness?<br />
Why do people want to mess with our happiness?<br />
Windhawk: When you are lonely, you reach a point where it is unbearable,<br />
And you know you can never be happy.<br />
Snowhawk: That is one thing I can say should never be.<br />
Everyone has a right to be Proud and free.<br />
Snowhawk: But loneliness comes like a harsh winter wind, and no one may know when it will end.<br />
Windhawk: Being alone makes you feel like the world is against you;<br />
No one cares if you are alive or not, so you convince yourself.<br />
You think: if I died in this house, would anyone miss me?<br />
Snowhawk: What do we do, you may ask? We stand both tall and proud; that’s what.<br />
One thing about it, my sister, you will always have me.<br />
The only person I am will always be me!<br />
Windhawk: Yes, brother; and I know you have family who love you; you won’t be alone.<br />
Snowhawk: If that is the case, then why do I feel so all alone? Like my own house is no longer a home?<br />
Windhawk: And this is what those who are lonely should know:<br />
Turn to God; seek him as your friend, your companion and family; you will never be alone.<br />
He shares in everything. Open your heart and let him in.<br />
Snowhawk: If everyone will turn to the Father, then all loneliness will one day be gone.<br />
Windhawk: That is why a hermit is content; he knows he has someone who never leaves his side.<br />
Snowhawk: Jesus Christ will help your mind and heart mend.<br />
We will join Jesus, in the great by and by.<br />
Windhawk: So when you are engrossed in your own loneliness, you fool yourself; you are never alone.<br />
Walk in the knowledge that you are loved by the greatest Lover in the Universe.<br />
Snowhawk: It’s in the bible; just read the verse: John 3:16.<br />
He will be with us until the end of time; halleluiah; no more loneliness!<br />
He knows everything about us; where we’re going and where we've been.<br />
Windhawk: The Comforter is here to remove that lonely feel.<br />
Snowhawk: So do as the Prophets did so long ago; follow Jesus! His love is real.<br />
Windhawk: And there, you have the happiness that is richer than any Earthly gift.<br />
Snowhawk: Jesus is King of Kings; he died, so we could live!<br />
Windhawk: The Apostles followed Jesus, even though their family<br />
Might have wanted them to keep being their old selves, they chose to follow their Master.<br />
Snowhawk: So turn your back on loneliness; live a Godly life style;<br />
Jesus is by your side, all the while.<br />
And with him on your side, you will pray for your enemies.<br />
Windhawk: He will never let you walk a lonely mile.<br />
And the smile on your face could light up an auditorium!<br />
Snowhawk: And the love you feel, you will know instantly you’re not alone.<br />
Windhawk: With Jesus by your side, life gets so much easier.<br />
You know he is taking care of everything.<br />
Snowhawk: You will be with God, when this world is dead and gone.<br />
Windhawk: Don't fight it; let him be the one in control; amen!<br />
Snowhawk: That, my friend, is how you will know; amen!<br />
Snowhawk and Windhawk: Loneliness is a state of mind and won’t be kind,<br />
So do not let it take over your life, but realize the truth is you are never alone or unloved;<br />
God loves you and wants you; reach out and let him love you.<br />
He will be your greatest friend and ally through every twist and turn in your life. AMEN!<br />
© 1-11-2012 by JD Couch and JA Wayahowl<br />
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<br /></div>Wayahowl and JDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06007272445567246302noreply@blogger.com2