No Fear

A mother wolf, alert in fear, 

Guards her playful wolf pups dear. 

Hiding in their woodsy home, 

Where God's creatures love to roam.  

God put in creatures, fear of man, 

When sin had wrecked His perfect plan. 

But in His glorious Earth made new, 

Their trust and friendship will surely renew.  

Our hearts will fill with joy and cheer, 

When man and beast no longer fear! 

With wolf pups then we'll romp and play, 

In perfect harmony each day!  

 By Elma Helgason

Just a cute poem I though you might like.

Peace

 

Peace.

A little white dove,

The calm after a storm,

A gentle breeze on a lazy day.

No, not my Peace.

My Peace is...

 

A serenity deep within your soul,

That while all hell rages you know,

You are safe.

You are protected.

You are loved.

That is my Peace.

Most folks think you obtain Peace by forsaking war,

Or by giving to the poor,

Or even simply saying a prayer.

But that's not how you get Peace, 

Not my Peace.

My Peace is a taste of Heaven on earth,

Obtained only through a change of heart.

A change caused by conviction,

Brought on by repentance.

Settled in your soul through trust.

For by grace are saved through faith.

Not by works of righteousness that we have done.

Lest any man should boast.

Therefore being justified by faith,

we have Peace,

Peace with God,

Through our Lord Jesus Christ.

My piece of Peace.

The Charge of the Light Brigade

The Charge of The Light Brigade is about the British Light Cleverly Brigade as their infantry of 670 men valiantly rode into the "Valley of Death" in an effort to hinder the Russian guns from moving forward. The Brigade accomplished their goal, but not without a price. Just over 100 men came "back from the mouth of Hell".
There are many possible reasons why the brigade would attempt such a seemingly impossible task, and several will argue whether the action was good or bad. There are also several different applications of the poem. It  can be compared to the christian life as they journey through this sin cursed world, or to the life of a young person trying to survive puberty, or a modern day soldier defending his country and what she stands for, or it could apply to an individual experiencing a very difficult period of time in their life. However you want to look at it, remember, the Light Brigade won the victory, but not without a cost.

          The Charge of The Light Brigade

  

Half a league, half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

"Forward the Light Brigade!

Charge for the guns!" he said:

Into the valley of Death 

Rode the six hundred.

"Forward the Light Brigade!"

Was there a man dismay'd?

Not tho' the soldier new

Someone had blunder'd:

Theirs not to make reply,

Theirs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do and die:

Into the valley of Death 

rode the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,

Cannon to the left of them,

Cannon in front of them

Volley'd and thundered;

Storm'd at with shot and shell,

Boldly the rode and well,

 Into the jaws of death,

Into mouth of Hell

Rode the six hundred.

Flashed all their sabres bare'

Flashed as they turned in air,

Sabring the gunners there,

Charging an army, while

All the world wondered:

Plunged in the battery smoke

Right through the lines they broke;

Cossack and Russian

Reel'd from the sabre stroke

Shattered and sunder'd.

Then they rode back, but not,

Not the six hundred.

Cannon to the right of them,

Cannon to the left of them,

Cannon behind them

Volley'd and thunder'd;

Stormed at with shot and shell,

While horse and hero fell,

They that had fought so well

Came through the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of Hell,

All that was left of them,

Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?

O the wild charge they made!

All the world wonder'd.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Light Brigade,

Noble six hundred.

By--Alfred Lord Tennyson 

Where I'm From

I am from warm fireplaces, where love and grief are shared,

From the clothesline out back and the bookshelf in the corner.

I am from mobile homes, old homes, brick, and stone houses,

With the laughter of children and fragrance of the season in the air.

I am from the sweet gum with the rope swing on one side and tire swing on the other.

I'm from the rose bush,

Whose fragrant blossoms I remember.

Though gone, long ago.

I am from the Easter get together and handmade quilt,

From Great Grandma's calloused hands and Grandpa's tomato patch.

I'm from stubborn folks and hard working family,

And from a smile an a rainy day.

From, "Do unto others as you would have them do for you."

And "be serious with God and He'll be serious with you".

I'm from the birthday stomp dance.

I am from the hills of Missouri and songs of the Cherokee Indians,

Pork chops with mashed 'taters and pumpkin pie.

From my mother's broken home and ruined life,

That our merciful Saviour rescued her from.

From photo albums and keep sake boxes,

Stored in bookshelves and bedroom closets.

I am a hodge-podge of many things,

Rooted in happiness and heartache.

Family that makes you stronger, and A God, too great for words,

Whose given me these roots I cherish.

This is the poem I wrote for our assignment from poetry class this week. All my family liked it, so I thought I'd share!