I never asked for love,
it slapped me in the face;
I would have walked on by,
content with my own pace.

But one can't ignore a slap,
when it's planted on your cheek;
when it's a bolt out of the blue,
not something that you seek.

You have to pay attention,
to a thing such as a slap;
to what was not apparent,
on your human map.

I looked and then I looked again,
for once, was not, enough;
you took me by surprise,
my demeanor turned to fluff.

I stammered in my mind,
for what I proposed to say;
and then, before, I could speak,
you'd gone the other way.

The fat cats live among us,
atop the highest hills;
they don't take generic,
inexpensive pills.
Money is no object,
it must be wonderful;
to be above the simple,
middle-class or dull.
They're gated and secure,
locked up in their own space;
you don't know them personally,
only by their face.
They are the ones that rule
by the power of the dollar;
they've degrees you do not have,
the educated scholar.
The money grabbing miser,
who sits upon his throne;
who seldom sees his neighbor,
and does not throw a bone.

In Your Word Lord, I gather strength,
to face ahead, the days of wrath;
to surmount my daily problems,
to stay on, the righteous path.
When the nights, all seem too long,
when the sadness shakes the mind;
in Your song, I am protected,
in You, such happiness I find.
I praise Your name, up to the heavens,
where in angel's fields, You are;
ask for forgiveness and for mercy,
in the atmosphere of stars.
Pray that You, will always guide me,
on all roads that lead to life;
ease my trouble thoughts; and
see me past the world of strife.
In Your Word Lord, I seek peace,
that no one understands, but me;
only others, in Your shelter,
can see the treasure, that I see.

Crimson, was the color of the dress you wore,
the night, we danced, out in the square;
lunar beams, cast moon-glow on your face,
the breeze, caressed, your auburn hair.

We danced, to music no one else could hear,
that night, was just for us, alone;
the stars, were cast upon a cloak of black,
that night, they were like jewels that shone.

Held tight, we swayed to sounds of love,
embraced, we floated, in love's trance;
our feet and heart were whirling too,
in the throes of lover's dance.

Our love, like perfume, lingered on,
sweet and magical, we laughed aloud;
the two, of us, so all alone,
so separated from the crowd.

Crimson, was the color of the dress you wore,
the night, we danced, out in the square;
two dreams, one love and mystery,
dancing, in the mist of love... one pair.

I used to be, out of control,
when things did not go right;
I'd brush it all aside,
in hectic, anxious flight.
To "nurse" my angry words,
with a drink or maybe more;
I'd stomp out of the house,
and then, I'd slam the door.
I used to blame all others,
who'd cause me so much pain;
then, I'd act surprised,
when I did it all, again.
I'd curse them, in my misery,
and the outcome of my fate;
lashing at the one I loved,
and hurt my cherished mate.
It's only recently that I,
have learned to live in peace;
with love and understanding,
I gave my life...new lease.
I give my burdens up to Him,
He's  changed my life around;
and as that grand old song does go,
once lost...  I now... am found.
I used to be an enemy,
to myself and those I knew;
but when I followed God,
those pain-filled days were through.
So let me say a hallelujah,
let me sing a righteous song;
for tomorrow's looking bright,
as I bury all that's wrong.

Honor your father and mother,
and let your life be long;
it's the first law with a promise,
on it, you won't go wrong.

We all need the right direction
in the things we do and say;
as we journey in our youth,
and prepare to go our way.

Our Father rules with mercy
and kindly discipline;
and when we leave the "nest,"
the rules, they do not end.

Authority is placed by God,
there's always one bad apple;
those we must discard,
as though our life we grapple.

Honor's only rightful,
when morals are but good;
doing what we know is right,
not what we think we should.

Honor we must give, to God,
in the depth of daily battle;
though the earth does shake,
and though the sabers rattle.

A church is not a building,
it's a meeting of the people;
that need no graven images,
that do not need a steeple.

God doesn't need a temple,
He's found most everywhere,
except in minds of sceptics,
or those who just don't care.

The hearts of men are stunted,
inside, their souls are dead;
they have no Spirit in them,
just carnal thoughts instead.

They are not called to God,
they are but slaves to sin;
they perish with no knowledge,
blind to where they've been.

A church is not a building,
it's the people of the Word;
that adhere to God's commandments,
and the power of his sword.