I have sinned and fallen short.
I have failed and gone astray.
I lie felled before temptation.
I let Satan get his way.
I committed cosmic treason.
I rebelled against my King.
I have cast away His Word.
I let wickedness take wing.
I am dead in my transgressions.
Eden's Curse imbues my soul.
But in spite of my depravity,
God wills that I be whole.
Unto Himself He pulls me.
I still wallow in my sin.
Though I cannot beg for mercy,
Eden's Savior takes me in.
He roots up every evil,
And he leaves it in the past:
At a Cross upon a Hill,
Where they thought he breathed his last.
I no longer writhe in anguish,
Nor lose sleep to empty fear.
The night becomes a comfort,
For my Shepherd holds me dear.
I do not deserve His favor,
Yet He loves me just the same,
And He saves me not for my sake,
But the glory of His Name.
Sailor’s Song
The Song of the Sea
Is the beat of my heart,
Though others may love it
Of me it's a part.
The medley of water,
The anthem of wave,
Which sings of the mermaid's
And mariner's grave.
It runs in the rivers,
It rings from the falls,
Forever it beckons,
And ever it calls.
It carries the notes
From a faraway land,
Of a maiden who sings
As she paces the sand,
And the song that she sings
Echoes back unto me,
For the song that she sings
Is the Song of the Sea.
Ocalian Autumn
There comes a day in all Septembers,
Wherein Ocala fair remembers,
The beauty her visage will bear,
When Autumn winds excite the air.
But then Ol' Summer comes again,
And reestablishes his reign:
He melts our ice cream, crocs, and tires,
Till graceful Fall the the crown acquires.
The hellish, humid heat gives way,
A gentler warmth imbues the day;
The sunlight gains a golden hue,
Which makes the fading leaves look new.
Ripe acorns fall abundantly,
And squirrels grow fatter tree by tree;
We rake the pine straw into heaps,
Awaiting eager little leaps.
Costume pieces are collected,
Last years jeans are resurrected;
Kids count days till Trick-or-Treating,
Tractor rides and turkey eating.
One fateful day a chilly breeze,
Will makes us shiver, sniff, and sneeze,
But till it comes the world is ours,
Soothed by Autumn's calming powers.
Typing
A, B, C, D,
E, F, G, whee!
H, I, J, K,
L, M, N-hey?
What about O,
Where'd it go?
There it is,
I'm a tying whiz!
I'll find each and every letter,
No one else'll do it better!
Wait a sec-
Where's P?
True Story
Well for Science I was labbin',
And my finger I was stabbin',
With a pin to try and draw a drop of blood,
Which I would smear upon a slide,
To the end of being dyed,
So I could see all of them leukocytes and crud.
Now the times were 'round a dozen,
That I stuck the needle's cousin,
In the index finger that ain't on my right,
But so thickly grew the callous,
That despite the pinpoint's malice,
Not a single spot of red came into sight.
Then my head began to lighten,
And my vision to de-brighten,
And before I knew it everything went black.
I'd passed out-or so it seems,
Because I had these crazy dreams,
And when they ended there was floor against my back.
Thus my noggin got to achin',
(And my elbow might have braken)
But the medics said I'd probably be fine,
And though my mom was worried mad,
I can't keep from feeling glad,
'Cause now I've got an injury that's mine!
Manhunt
I fear the hunter's after me,
I must get quickly to that tree,
In the shadows I'll be free,
Far from the fire.
The hunter now comes into sight,
It seems that I was all too right,
Into my legs I throw my might,
The threat is dire.
Now I'm running really fast,
The other players stand aghast,
My strength is fading-one more blast,
I cannot tire.
Finally I reach the dark,
And grasp for handholds on the bark,
From here I see the fire's spark-
-ling, blazing spire.
I pull myself into the leaves,
I think the tagger still believes
I'm on the ground; my body heaves
In leafy bier.
The hunter comes and looks around,
I'm pretty sure I've been unfound,
He jogs away; I hit the ground,
And dodge a mire.
Now the hunter's off my tail:
I've once again evaded jail!
I sprint across a forest trail,
My spirits higher.
Thus we play that hallowed game,
Nocturnal tag-Manhunt by name,
Scratched and bruised and glad we came,
Unto the fire.
Stick
If you find a good stick,
A sound stick, a strong stick,
A stick that doesn't crack
When it's whacked against a tree;
If you find a good stick,
A straight stick, a long stick,
Then come and find me in among the trees so I can see!
It can be a broadsword,
An old one, a sharp one,
We'll hunt out all the monsters
Lurking just behind the trees.
It can be a standard,
A tall one, a carved one,
A handkerchief can be the flag which billows in the breeze.
It can be a hiking staff,
A worn one, a trusty one,
We'll venture through the forest
Climbing over every rock.
It can be a ships oar,
A great one, a sturdy one,
A swing will be our vessel with the playground as a dock.
Or it can be our good stick,
Our sound stick, our strong stick,
The stick we found this morning
Lying underneath a tree,
Yes, it'll be our good stick,
Our straight stick, our long stick,
We'll take it home and play with it tomorrow, you and me.
Sticksword 