WISDOM BOUND                      BY bob pippin

Oh friend of mine, If you’re wisdom bound, It a long, hard ride without resting time

Can you get folks to listen when you speak your best open mind?

Can you ever get them to feel what you feel deep down inside?

Can you always get them to understand how to walk a truly straight line?

Can you even get them to see, feel, and understand the hidden foolishness of false pride?

Can you really hope to enlighten them that living their ever growing best self of being kind

For the betterment of mankind is their only way of enjoying a true satisfied personal mind?

But most of all, can you get them to honestly answer your questions about Nature’s Call

 For them to shine a light into Nature’s gift of Love and Life here on earth’s crumbling wall?



Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone,
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has troubles enough of it s own,

Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air,
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,---
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.

There is room in the house of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.



GOLDEN GIFTS.                   BY Sara I. Brown

The trees sway softly in the breeze

Against a sky so blue,

The golden sun beams in across

A sea of morning dew.


          My spirit quickens as I see

          How much God really cares

          To create such beauty just for me;

          Reaching out, I take my share.


                    If man isn’t willing to take the time,

                    How can he truly live,

                    If he looks at neither sky nor sun,


                              I wish that I could save this day

                              And the radiance that I view,

                              But I will hold in memory

                              Its gifts of gold and blue.


SUNSET YEARS.                   BY Regina Wiencek



Time becomes more precious

As seasons come and go.

Each dawning day’s a special gift

When twilight shadows grow.

And looking back I see God’s hand

In happiness and sorrow.

He has a purpose for my life,

A plan for each tomorrow.

Faithfully, He brought me through

The valleys in my life.


He took my heart and molded it

Through pain and grief and strife

He met me on the mountaintop

To catch a fleeting view

Of love and joy unspeakable,

That thrilled me through and through.

Throughout life’s changing seasons,

I found God ever near.

Into the sunset of my years,

I walk without a fear.




PODNER, you’re welcome
to such as we’ve got—
The leaks in the roof—
An’ the beans in the pot—

The butter that’s soft—
An’ the bunks that are hard—
The weeds that are growin’
All over the yard.

Get up when yo’re ready
Be plumb at your ease—
Don’t worry ‘bout us
Just do as yuh please----

Yuh don’t have to thank us
or laff at our jokes—
Sit deep — an’ come often—
Yo’re one of the folks!


                  MYSELF     BY: EDGAR A. GUEST


 I HAVE to live with myself, and so

I want to be fit for myself to know,

I want to be able, as days go by,

Always to look myself straight in the eye;

I don’t want to stand, with the setting sun,

And hate myself for things I have done.


I don’t want to keep on a closet shelf

A lot of secrets about myself,

And fool myself, as I come and go,

Into thinking that nobody else will know

The kind of a man I really am;

I don’t want to dress up myself in sham.


I want to go out with my head erect,

I want to deserve all men’s respect;

But here in the struggle for fame and pelf

I want to be able to like myself.

I don’t want to look at myself and know

That I’m bluster and bluff and empty show.


I can never hide myself from me;

I see what others may never see;

I know what others may never know,

I never can fool myself, and so,

Whatever happens, I want to be

Self-respecting and conscience free.



At Day's End

Is anybody happier because you passed this way?
Does anybody remember that you spoke to them today?
The day is almost over and its toiling time is through;
Is there anyone to utter now a kindly word of you?

Can you say tonight in parting with the day that's dipping fast,
That you helped a single person of the many that you passed?
Is a single heart rejoicing over what you did or said;
Does the person whose hopes were fading now with courage look ahead?

Did you waste the day or lose it?
Was it well or sorely spent?
Did you leave a trail of kindness,
or a scar of discontent?

As you close your eyes in slumber,
Do you think that GOD will say
"You have earned one more tomorrow
by the work you did today"?


RICHES             BY:  Adele Gerard Tinning
                                             March 4, 1948

The treasures I’ve gathered along life’s way
Were neither gold or silver
I could not place a price on them
They are too precious to be sold

It was that smile and little sigh
The handshakes that were given
Gave me more than money could buy
And they made my life worth living

So when one counts his treasures
I’m richer from the start
Because I have these precious gifts
Stored deep within my heart

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