See the house on Friers Bay,
Where the children love to play?
Yet in it's beauty,roams a killer,
In the presents of your sight,a chiller.
What makes the children so brave,
And the old folks so gray?
Even after six years of quiet,
The people knew the houses plight.
One time,there was the loudest scream,
The most horrid nightmare,youd dream.
On the morn,next day,
A tortured and beaten corpse lay.
Nobody could solve the crime,
No weapons or clues,they didn't find.
To this day,since that year,
This community lives in fear.
They know screams are still heard,
But not a soul admits the murmur.

RAYMOND FRENCH

As I sit reading Science Fiction
through time,fantasy and space.
I would like to mention
something of the human race:
Our Lord GOD has forgotten us
and we survive alone
and contaminated by radiation dust
we loose our loved ones and homes.
People are savagely eating their kind
to feed thyselves,for food is gone.
For abodes is hard to find.
Away from another race,we run.
They are the beings of space.
and they have landed upon the Earth.
They chase and kill the human race
for it's own generations birth.
With the crumbled streets,
they sail the ruins of a dead city
and the worlds in mammoth defeat
as they march in quantity...
As I shut this horrid book
and growing into fear,
I get a terrified look
'Could This Happen Here?'

RAYMOND FRENCH

Who is Raymond French? I like his work :o)

That's me LOL

Cold chills of the night
Of a muggy,dreary sight
A scarecrow in a sheet
From the stairs it leaped
Glow from the eyes
From a dead mans mind
From soul of a corpse
Came a howl and roar
I was dreaming
As it was singing
I accepted the fact,
So befudled,I sat
Making the image vanish
became the disadvantage

RAYMOND FRENCH at Starlitecafe.com

I'm impressed!

Nice!

Thanx for your complements. I really mean it, check our starlite cafe.com ( I think?) it has alot of poets and you can submit your own there too

Running through the mountains
Tramping through the woods
I saw a rugged hunter
Drinking his secret brew
Down from the mountain
A wolf came near
And surprized the hunter
And bit him on the rear
His blood started pouring
All over the camp
And I ran from there
As fast as I can
Running through the mountains
Running through the woods
I hurried on from there
As fast as I could

RAYMOND FRENCH

 
In the end we return to our earth.
The very same earth from which we were born.
And it will take us in death like it brought us at birth.
It happens to one, to all, yet the majority mourns.
For what purpose mourns the majority?
Life is merely a blink of an eye to Time.
Indeed people die. Indeed it's a pity,
But for what purpose mourn on your behalf or mine?
Seldom do I worry, and seldom do I care
Whether or not I live to see tomorrow.
It may be a beautiful day, sunny and fair,
Or, more likely, a dark day of malice and horror.
Impossible to tell or know the future,
Yet believe you me I see dismay.
A pitiful world corrupted by the money creature,
In which life is guided by the dollar of hate.
Give up now, and sell it your soul.
It's no use fighting when your team has thrown in the towel.
The money creature razed and burned your hope-houses
And left in their place this darkness so foul.

By yousolastsummr
(Just a sampling of the starlitecafe.com)

http://www.thestarlitecafe.com

The Old Barn
A stranger came by the other day with an offer that set me to thinking. He wanted to buy the old barn that sits out by the highway. I told him right off he was crazy He was a city type, you could tell by his clothes, his car, his hands, and the way he talked. He said he was driving by and saw that beautiful barn sitting out in the tall grass and wanted to know if it was for sale. I told him he had a funny idea of beauty.
Sure, it was a handsome building in its day. But then, there's been a lot of winters pass with their snow and ice and howling wind. The summer sun's beat down on that old barn till all the paint's gone, and the wood has turned silver gray. Now the old building leans a good deal, looking kind of tired. Yet, that fellow called it beautiful.
That set me to thinking. I walked out to the field and just stood there, gazing at that old barn. The stranger said he planned to use the lumber to line the walls of his den in a new country home he's building down the road. He said you couldn't get paint that beautiful. Only years of standing in the weather, bearing the storms and scorching sun, only that can produce beautiful barn wood.
It came to me then. We're a lot like that, you and I. Only it's on the inside that the beauty grows with us. Sure we turn silver gray too ... and lean a bit more than we did when we were young and full of sap. But the Good Lord knows what He's doing. And as the years pass He's busy using the hard wealth of our lives, the dry spells and the stormy seasons, to do a job of beautifying our souls that nothing else can produce. And to think how often folks holler because they want life easy!
They took the old barn down today and hauled it away to beautify a rich man's house. And I reckon someday you and I'll be hauled off to Heaven to take on whatever chores the Good Lord has for us on the Great Sky Ranch.
And I suspect we'll be more beautiful then for the seasons we've been through here ... and just maybe even add a bit of beauty to our Father's house.
May there be peace within you today.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
"I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.

Nice story :•)

Hey you guy's , anyone out there that can help me.
I'm working on a memory book.

Remember, girls in the old days used to keep memory books, and bashful boys wrote in them.

Things like: "The road is wide and full of ditches, I hope some day you'll patch my breeches!"

And this one: "When you get married and live over the hill, send me news by the whippoorwill."

Anyone out there remember any? :o)

Like... Roses are red, Violets are blue, I would love to see you but I have the flu

Or... Roses are red, Violets are blue,Sugar is sweet and you are tooo. :o)

Whatever you give away today,
or think or say or do
will multiply about tenfold
and then return to you.

It may not come immediately,
nor from the obvious source
but the law applies unfailingly,
through some invisible force.  
 
Whatever you feel about another,
be it love or hate or passion
will surely bounce right back to you
in some clear (or secret) fashion

If you speak about some person,
a word of praise or two,
soon, tens of other people
will speak kind words of you.  
 
Our thoughts are broadcasts of the soul,
not secrets of the brain.
Kind ones bring us happiness;
petty ones, untold pain.

Giving works as surely
as reflections in a mirror.
If hate you send, hate you'll get back,
but loving brings love nearer.
 
Remember, as you start this day
and duty crowds your mind,
that kindness comes so quickly back
to those who first are kind.  
 
Let that thought and this one
direct us through each day.
The only things we ever keep
are the things we give away.

Spread Kindness
~Author Unknown~
 

Thanks for sharing Linda and so true!! :-)

Linda, how beautiful and so very true. Thanks so much for sharing.

Said the Duck to the Kangaroo,
'Good gracious! how you hop!
Over the fields and the water too,
As if you never would stop!
My life is a bore in this nasty pond,
And I long to go out in the world beyond!
I wish I could hop like you!'
Said the duck to the Kangaroo.



'Please give me a ride on your back!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.
'I would sit quite still, and say nothing but "Quack,"
The whole of the long day through!
And we'd go to the Dee, and the Jelly Bo Lee,
Over the land and over the sea;—
Please take me a ride! O do!'
Said the Duck to the Kangaroo.



Said the Kangaroo to the Duck,
'This requires some little reflection;
Perhaps on the whole it might bring me luck,
And there seems but one objection,
Which is, if you'll let me speak so bold,
Your feet are unpleasantly wet and cold,
And would probably give me the roo-
Matiz!' said the Kangaroo.



Said the Duck, 'As I sat on the rocks,
I have thought over that completely,
And I bought four pairs of worsted socks
Which fit my web-feet neatly.
And to keep out the cold I've bought a cloak,
And every day a cigar I'll smoke,
All to follow my own dear true
Love of a Kangaroo!


Said the Kangaroo, 'I'm ready!
All in the moonlight pale;
But to balance me well, dear Duck, sit steady!
And quite at the end of my tail!'
So away they went with a hop and a bound,
And they hopped the whole world three times round;
And who so happy,—O who,
As the duck and the Kangaroo!


by Edward Lear (1812-1888)

O Kangaroo, O kangaroo,
Be grateful that you're in a zoo
And not transmuted by a boomerang
To zestful tangy kangaroo meringue.

Here's a favorite of mine for all you romantics out there on Valentine's Day. I don't know who the author is, I grabbed this off the net about 5 years ago.


'If Only'


If only I were given a chance to dream,
And a chance to make my dreams true,
I’d force myself to sleep all the time,
Just so I could dream of you.

If only I were granted wishes,
I would only ask for two,
I would wish for your eternal love,
And the other I’d give to you.

If only my heart could write a poem,
It would write one just for you,
It would explain the way I feel inside,
And how much I’ll always love you.

Alas, dreams are only dreams,
And wishes seldom come true,
Though my heart can’t write a poem,
When it beats, it beats for you.

That's a beautiful poem Pawnchucker.I've never read it before. Thanks for sharing. Hope your day was a good one. :o)

I boarded a bus on a whim,Traveling three thousand mile to meet him.Nothing to call my own,I left behind my family and home.. Two ragged suitcases as I decended the stairs,Fifty cents is all I had left,Otherwise my pockets would've been bare.I traveled far,seen many places,horded my cash tried to fill in the spaces. Never had I been so far from home,All these strange face of people unknown.Looking around as I exit that bus,Looking for this man I had grown to trust.Afraid I wasn't!! no time for that.I had made my choice didn't want to turn back.I knew he would show but if he didn't, I had two ragged suitcases and my fifty cents.Then out of the crowd this tall man did walk,He came up to me ,he began to talk.A smile crossed his face as he took my hand.I knew then he was the kindest man.My desicion to come was well worth the distance.He asked me this question as he carried my two suitcases,ragged and bent...What would you have done if I hadn't shown? I just smiled for this I had known,I had two ragged suitcases and fifty cents..With them I would go, someplace and start fresh,Here I would stay to do my best...I still have my two suitcases batter and worn,The fifty cents I had I have no more.I have no regrets as the days speed by,Together forever just him and I..The tall kind man he stayed the same.We fell in love.With him I will always remained....
By cutiejudy  

What a beautiful story of perseverence, trust and love!! Thanks for sharing, Skyking :-)

barren ground and icy twigs
hard stones and still creeks

fragile

got touched
layers
so soft, but heavy

got burried

deep

dark
all lights out

within

and forever

it seems forever

barren ground and icy twigs
hard stones and still creeks

lay covered
and hidden

until
slowly and careful

layers got peeled
like unions

by many
a lil warmth

each minute
each day, month, year
a lil more

continuously
a lil more
warmth

deliberately
touchin'

each moment
a lil more

until

barren grounds
start blooming

icy twigs
blossom

hard stones
sparkle like diamonds

and

still creeks
develop to lively waters

like your
fragile,
beautiful hearts

March 17-2004
Copyright: ~*Radiant 34*~


For my friends here and in real who suffer, who are hangin' in there, whose beautiful hearts feels like stone; who feels burried and hidden - like underneath the current snow in winter; they will blossom again in their springtime...

With love,
~*Radiant 34*~

Decietful,litle people
Who's hell is their steeple
Who's minds are burning
Perverteness they cling
Killing and stealing
And all satans doing
Cry for God,won't help you now
Hot ashes you'll plow
Doing the deeds of satan
And your boney frames are naked using you, for his evil purposeFor freedom and dignity he'll crush
In the firey hell,you'll burn
If there's a next time you'll learn

By RAYMOND FRENCH

If
by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!