Amy's Place ... Poetry and Potpourri ... July, 2009

June 30, 2009 | JustAmy; St.Louie1; MamaBear; Billie

[JustAmy]

Welcome To....


'Amy's Place' welcomes all poets
and those who enjoy poetry.
'Amy's Place' is more than just about poetry.
Come in, relax, and share with fellow FReepers
your thoughts about any of the things on the *Menu*.

Enjoy! :)











Never Forget!





Bad Penny



Amy's personal guardian ~
the ever charming, lovable, huggable,
LouieWolf




Many thanks for stopping by. : )

[pollywog]

Yorkie,Those are lovely Eagle Graphics.!!!

Some of the best shots I know have been taken by my friend from Hancock Wildlife Foundation by Harry Johnson. I will see if I can downsize some when I get time.... Polly

[Majie Purple]

LOL! & Adorable re:the 3 cats...no dogs x 3 twist on popular saying!!!

[Majie Purple]

Sweet kitten pics!!

[Majie Purple]

What a gorgeous; vibrant rock formation, photo find!

[Majie Purple]

Nice Psalm & sunrise!! :) <3

[Majie Purple]

Special & Lovely!! HUGS & T Y again!

[yorkie]

Polly, thanks for the name. I did a little search and came up with all these wonderful video clips that Harry Johnson has made.

All I can say, is “WOW!”

http://www.hancockwildlifechannel.org/mediagallery/album.php?aid=209&page=1

[Majie Purple]

Sweet pic & Wonderfilled Bible verse!! :) <3

[Majie Purple]

Thank You so much Luvee!

[Kitty Mittens]

I Love your Post, Lady Jag, especially this Part: "I'll Remember that to Worry is just a Waste of Time
Because my Faith in God and His Divine Plan Ensures Everything will be just Fine."
I Needed to Hear those Words; Thank you, and Thank you for your Beautiful #2090,
And your Kind Comments about my Lord's Day Pic and Scriptures.

Sending Hugs to All FRiends for the Wonderful Sunday Posts.
Thank you, Purple, Jaycee and Meg, for your Sweet Comments on my Lord's Day Post!

(((((((Goodnight, and God Bless)))))))

[pollywog]

Yesserie!!! That's the website where I have " hung out" since 2006! I have a album there too but nothing as fantastic as Harry. Some of his still photos are elegant. I think he is in the process of publishing a book!He is a photographer par excellence!

MOst of my videos were created in the early 2007 when I was bedridden with Shingles. Very amateur, but I sure had fun.

[yorkie]

Oh, no. Shingles are so awful. I am sorry you had to endure that. I hope you didn’t get post herpatic neuralgia. My husband did, and it was so hard on him.

I’ll look forward to seeing your videos, Polly. Hope to see you more often! HUGS!!

[pollywog]

Oh Kitty Mittens! I just noticed your post and realized that I got sidetracked on Eagles and failed to see this beautiful rose and scripture!

You are such marvelous graphic artist! You ALL are amazing!
Mind if I save that rose to my files?

Polly

[pollywog]

Yorkie,
I was hospitalized for a week. That was in December 2006. I was not able to be up and around until June 2007!!
The last Dr. appointment I had 6 months ago the Dr. said they will never leave my system. Oh yes, I STILL feel them! Guess that is the post herpatic neuralgia? Worst pain I have ever had in my life!

[Kitty Mittens]

Mind if I save that rose to my files?

Hi, Dear Polly! I Love to Share the Pics I Find on the 'Net, and the Pics I Snap with my Own Camera, and am Honored that Anyone would Want to Save them. Please Save Anything I Post that you Like. Hugs!

[yorkie]

Yes - it is caused by nerve damage from the Shingles, I think. My husband used the Tens machine, and it seemed to help, somewhat. We tried everything - diet, ointments, soaks, packs. The only thing that seemed to help was chocolate!

(Just kidding, Polly!) Hope you find some way to get relief, bless your heart! If I hear of any new treatments, I’ll forward them on to you. (HUGS!!)

[The Mayor]

Freep mail me to be on or off the Daily Bread ping list

July 27, 2009

God’s Heart Revealed

ODB RADIO: Listen Now |  Download
READ: Revelation 3:14-22

As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten. Therefore be zealous and repent. —Revelation 3:19

It’s easy to think of God as a divine fly-swatter, just waiting for you to land so that—whap—He can nail you for your sins. But that’s not what we see in Revelation 2–3 in His letters to the seven churches. The pattern of the letters demonstrates God’s loving heart for wayward people.

Jesus began many of these letters by affirming the good things His people had done. This shows us that when we do what is good and right, the Lord is pleased.

But Jesus is also concerned about the faults in our lives. His commendation in these letters was often followed by clear words of reproof. And while it’s not comfortable to hear Him say, “Nevertheless I have this against you” (2:4; see vv.14,20), He reveals what needs to be changed in our lives to keep us from self-deceit.

This moves us to the real heart of the matter—repentance. When the Lord told these churches to repent, He was revealing His love for wayward saints. His goal was not to condemn but to restore them to intimate fellowship with Him.

And don’t miss the fact that each letter ends with a specific promise for the “overcomers.” Clearly God desires to reward those who live lives that are pleasing to Him.

What’s He saying to you today?

To live a life that pleases Christ,
It’s crucial to obey His voice;
When He reveals our sin to us,
Repentance is the wisest choice. —Sper

Repentance restores and renews our intimacy with the Lord.
Bible in One Year: Psalms 43-45; Acts 27:27-44

[fewz]

I know most of you read this poem in school but.......

The Highwayman
By Alfred Noyes

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding-
Riding-riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say-

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching-
Marching-marching-
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say-
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up strait and still!

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him-with her death.

He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding-
Riding-riding-
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

But how many of you have heard Loreena McKennitt sing it?

Loreena McKennitt - The Highwayman

Loreena McKennitt - Dance of Wolves

[MEG33]

Love this, fewz..Good Monday Morning .

[fewz]

Need two corrections:

Should be: Dance of Wolves (Loreena McKennit - Mummer’s Dance)

And I left an “h” in the tagline.