[Mama_Bear]

06-02-04
(Graphic/photo by Mama_Bear)

What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
-   Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

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Pinging you all to Amy's Place. I hope you will come by and share a smile, a laugh, a poem, or "whatever". You are always welcome here.

Have a wonderful Wednesday!

[MeekOneGOP]

Mornin', everybody ! Happy Wednesday !

Have a cup while you Freep !

[Conspiracy Guy]

Why are yall on the old thread? I'll ping yall over in a second.

[The Mayor]

This commandment we have from Him: that he who loves God must love his brother also. —1 John 4:21

God loves you and me-let's love each other.

[The Mayor]

June 2, 2004

Porcupine People

Read: 1 John 4:16-21

This commandment we have from Him: that he who loves God must love his brother also. —1 John 4:21

Bible In One Year: 2 Chronicles 17-18; John 13:1-20

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Deep in a Wyoming canyon I came across the biggest porcupine I've ever seen. As he lumbered toward me, I watched him closely and gave him plenty of room. I was not about to get near a guy whose quills looked like missiles. No wonder he was alone!

But he's not alone all the time. Every November and December, porcupines get close enough to produce offspring. During that time they choose to relax their quills, then they return to their prickly selves.

In nearly every church, there will be a porcupine or two, with sharp quills of criticism or sarcasm or arrogance. We want to avoid them, but God places us in communities of believers for fellowship. He commands us to love one another—including the porcupine types. And in our honest moments, we have to admit that we have quills too.

John wrote, "He who loves God must love his brother also" (1 John 4:21). To do this, we need to ask God to help us "relax our quills," even when other people are prickly. The Holy Spirit will help us stop being so defensive or critical or controlling, and enable us to love our Christian brothers and sisters. It's the way we show the world that we love God (John 13:35). —Dave Egner

Some people can be difficult to love
And so we do not even try to care,
But God says, "Love them just as I've loved you—
You'll bring Me glory as My love you share." —Cetas

God loves you and me-let's love each other.

[PreviouslyA-Lurker]

Good afternoon!

[PreviouslyA-Lurker]

Good Afternoon!

[Victoria Delsoul]

Hi everybody.

Fatricia and Feter

Ladies and gentlemen, 50 years ago Paul Finch, the famous short-sighted poet, typed his last poem on a machine which had been repaired by an equally short-sighted repairman. And he put the 'F' where the 'P' should be, and the 'P' where the 'F' should be.

However, as it is his last poem, I thought you might like to hear it as it was originally written. Here it is then, Fatricia and Feter, the pinal foem of Faul Pinch. I think you'll like it.

Fatricia was just pipteen
When she pell in love with Fete,
He was pishing in the river,
With galoshes on his peat.

(He speaks first)

"Is the water deef here?"
"About pour inches," she reflies,
He fut his poot in pront of him,
And sank up to his eyes.

As he struggled to the surpace,
Covered prom head to poot, in muck,
She said, "That's punny,
It only comes halp way uf my duck."

She noticed he was peeling paint
So she griffed him by the arm,
He said, "Are you rich?" She said, "No, I peed myself
With pood grown on my parm."

Years fassed by and handsome Fete
Lept town, and so did fretty Fat,
She joined the metrofolitan folice porce,
Her polks were froud of that.

One day as she was facing uf and down,
She heard a strange cry in the street,
Someone was flaying a piddle,
In the gutter, there stoof Fete.

She could tell by the look ufon his pace,
He was peeling broken-hearted,
He said, "I've lept my wipe, you know,"
She said, "I'd heard you'd... gone."

"Flease, flease, oh go away flease," he begged,
She answered him with smiles,
He said, "I've been in frison,"
She said, "I know, I've seen your piles."

He said, "At least I had pood in there
And over my head a roop,
If I'd have stayed much longer with all those men,
I'd have become a raving foop."

She held his hand as they were wed,
At the chafel of St. Fauls,
They honeymooned in Niagara,
And she held him by the palls.

They now have pour children,
And lipe for them is great,
You just can't fredict where it will foint,
That pickle pinger of pate.

-- Benny Hill