A veteran died today ... Thx Paul C!

*A POEM WORTH**READING*

*He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.

And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew where of he spoke.

But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For ol' Joe has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer
For a Veteran died today.

He won't be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won't note his passing,
'Tho a Veteran died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young,
But the passing of a Veteran
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?

The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.

While the ordinary Veteran,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.

It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever-waffling stand?

Or would you want a Veteran
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Veteran,
Who would fight until the end.

He was just a common Veteran,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his likes again.*

*For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Veteran's part,
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A VETERAN DIED TODAY."


PLEASE pass On The Patriotism! YOU can make a difference. If you are
proud of our Vets, then send this to them. You'll be glad you did.
Then send it to ALL your friends.*

Redneck Love Poem ... Thx Dr. Ralph H!

ehz A Redneck Love Poem

Ah, life in Mississippi , isn’t it wonderful?

Yesterday Poem by Sam Kegley 7/24/14

Yesterday



Shall we work or shall we play
Much depends on yesterday

Should events just fade away
or keep returnming along our way

Give us back December 7, 41
Be as if we've just begun

Hitler would expand due to our isolation
What kind of fortress would then be our nation

For the early morning of 9-11
Skipping that event would keep us in Heaven

People would still read about and admire us

But admiration always slips away

Wake this sleeping giant though
Can we make the enemies regret their yesterdays

Will GI's fight and fall with wounds
Because they felt the hurts of yesterdays

Our surrogate fighters have volunteered
and served so well

How would needed draftees fare
In the face of future battles hell

We pray for God to bless us again although
We have slipped as a nation of Christians

It won't be Noah's boat to save some species
Nor David's bow to bring down creepies

But a return to prayer won't hurt one bit
Throughout this world who've seemed to quit

As we search out a better way
To keep from dreading yesterday

Sam Kegley of this SamKat blog

Redneck love poem ... Oh my Dr. H ... it is a funny re-cycle

Redneck Love Poem

This actually earned a poetry prize in West Virginia in 1912.

Chicago - Mobs- Poem

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Two true tales Inbox x  STORY NUMBER  ONE     Many years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago .  Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic. He was notorious for enmeshing the windy city in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.         Capone had a lawyer nicknamed "Easy Eddie." He was Capone's lawyer for a good reason.  Eddie was very good!  In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time.        To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well.  Not only was the money big, but Eddie got special dividends, as well.  For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of  the day.  The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block.         Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago mob and gave little consideration to the atrocity that went on around him.          Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly.  Eddie saw to it that his young son had clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld.   Price was no object.         And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong.  Eddie wanted his son to be a better man than he was.         Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things he couldn't give his son; he couldn't pass on a good name or a good example.         One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he had done.         He decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al "Scarface" Capone, clean up his tarnished name, and offer his son some semblance of integrity.  To do this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great.  So, he testified.         Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street .  But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he could ever pay.  Police removed from his pockets a rosary, a crucifix, a religious medallion, and a poem clipped from a magazine.         The poem reads:         "The clock of life is wound but once, and no man has the power to tell just when the hands will stop, at late or early hour.  Now is the only time you own.. Live, love, toil with a will. Place no faith in time.  For the clock may soon be still."         STORY NUMBER  TWO         World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare.         He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific.         One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission.  After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank.         He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his  ship.         His flight leader told him to return to the carrier.  Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet.         As he was returning to the mother ship, he saw something that turned his blood cold; a squadron of Japanese aircraft was speeding its way toward the American fleet.         The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but defenceless.  He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet.  Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger.  There was only one thing to do.  He must somehow divert them from the  fleet.         Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes.  Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another.  Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent.         Undaunted, he continued the assault.  He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible, rendering them unfit to fly.         Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction.         Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier.         Upon arrival, he reported in and related the event surrounding his return.  The film from the gun-camera mounted on his plane told the tale.  It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet.  He had, in fact, destroyed five enemy aircraft  This took place on February 20, 1942 , and for that action Butch became the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first Naval Aviator to win the Medal of Honour.         A year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29.  His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in Chicago is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.         So, the next time you find yourself at O'Hare International, give some thought to visiting Butch's memorial displaying his statue and his Medal of Honor.  It's located between Terminals 1 and 2.         SO WHAT DO THESE TWO STORIES HAVE TO DO WITH EACH OTHER?         Butch O'Hare was "Easy Eddie's" son.                                                             Click here to Reply, Reply to all, or Forward Why this ad?Ads – Get Your Veteran ID Card Largest US Veteran Website ID card Benefits, discounts & service pride www.VetFriends.com 2.73 GB (18%) of 15 GB used Manage ©2013 Google - Terms & Privacy Last account activity: 0 minutes ago Details

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Shocking poem ... Thx Dr. H!

BEST POEM IN THE WORLD

I was shocked, confused, bewildered
As I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
Nor the lights or its decor.

But it was the folks in Heaven
Who made me sputter and gasp--
The thieves, the liars, the sinners,
The alcoholics and the trash.

There stood the kid from seventh grade
Who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor
Who never said anything nice.

Bob, who I always thought
Was rotting away in hell,
Was sitting pretty on cloud nine,
Looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus, 'What's the deal?
I would love to hear Your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here?
God must've made a mistake.

'And why is everyone so quiet,
So somber - give me a clue.'
'Hush, child,' He said,
'they're all in shock.
No one thought they'd be seeing you.'

JUDGE NOT!!

Remember...Just going to church doesn't make you a
Chris tian any more than standing in your garage makes you a car.

Every saint has a PAST...
Every sinner has a FUTURE!
Now it's your turn... Share this poem.

Rosebud ... Thx good friend Sonny H!

Food for thought. Next time someone says "stop & smell the roses", you'll know why. A test of your faith. May you get a Rose every day.

 

-- Author unknown

A new minister was walking with an older, more seasoned minister in the garden one day.

Feeling a bit insecure about what God had for him to do, he was asking the older preacher for some advice.

The older preacher walked up to a rosebush and handed the young preacher a rosebud and told him to  open it without tearing off any of the petals.

The young preacher looked in disbelief at the older preacher and was trying to figure out what a rosebud could possibly have to do with his wanting to know the will of God for his life and ministry.

But, because of his great respect for the older preacher, he proceeded to try to unfold the rose, while keeping every petal intact. It wasn't long before he realized how impossible this was to do.

Noticing the younger preacher's inability to unfold the rosebud, without tearing it, the older preacher began to recite the following poem.

It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
GOD opens this flower so easily,
But in my hands they die.

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God's design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?

So, I'll trust in God for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to God for guidance In each step along the way.

The path that lies before me,
Only my Lord and Savior knows.
I'll trust God to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.

If you enjoyed being reminded to "let go and let God" unfold your life... please consider sharing this poem with a friend.