The glory of the bride is found
In the love of her groom
Her face is glowing brightly
As she walks into the room
The purity of her gown
Is the prudence of his choice
And her veil is the image
Of his kind, protecting voice
A blush is sitting gracefully
Upon her smiling cheek
Accentuated sweetly
By her gracious spirit, meek
The groom is standing tall and firm
Yet gentle is his hand
As he pledges his covenant
In front of all the land
His promise of sweet faithfulness

There was a wood my family owned
I oft went there when I was small;
Ne’er went I there, save once, alone—
Down to those trees so straight and tall.

Upon that day, I went to see
The creek, and lush green sorrel growing
How delightful it was to be
There without my family knowing.

I sat beneath a spreading pine,
In deep thought, I ate my sorrel,
Suddenly the blackberry vines
Were wet upon the un-mown hill.

For Better for Worse

I once knew a girl, named Hope, who loved shopping, looking at items, and buying things. With many talents, piano and athletics among her favorites, she often won honors the competitions she was involved in. Having grown up in a Christian family, she had also begun a relationship with God at an early age. She was happy, with friends, goals, and a future of opportunity. I’ve heard her describe herself as living her ideal of the American Dream at that time in her life.

It was towards the end of fall, with the threat of an unusually harsh winter looming, when the letter came. As isolated as the village was, it was a rare event for a villager to receive mail. Only three times, as far back as their father could remember, had a letter been delivered to anyone living there. Each time, it had brought bad news to the family. This meant that the Glenns were not pleased to find they were the recipients of such a missive.

There was a man in El-Qadar,
A man with silver eyes.
He said to me, "Beware the dark,
"For it will whisper lies.
"And raze the shadows of the deep;
"Lest they haunt you forevermore,
"Mock and taunt you in your sleep."

I heard his words, heard and obeyed
The man with silver eyes.
And brought His light into the dark,
So none could hear its cries
And to the evil shades that lurk,
I brought Holy Fires, that burned
The deep hazes of their murk.

The haze of time is kind,
Warping painful memories,
And dulling the hurt.

But I will still remember,
No matter how
Much time passes,
No matter how long I live.

Even when I am
In my grave, my
Spirit will continue to
Remember the hurt
Of that day, long ago.

The mists of time
May cloud others'
Memories, but not
Mine. I will
Continue to mourn.
I will ne'er forget.

I stand here before,
I'm waiting to see.
T call out your name.
Will you hear me?

I'll give you my heart,
And all that I am.
I will be yours,
Please believe me.

So ask and you'll find
The key to my heart.
Unlock the door
And receive me.

If you say that you
Don't need me,
Just take a look around;
And remember, I'll be there
When others let you down.

My First and Only Real Live Mystery
Imagination is a powerful force and a dangerous weapon. Some use it as a tool to solve a bothersome problem, while others find a haven, an escape for a few quiet hours. Even so, when the human mind fails to master this creative might, slavery to Fantasy is the consequence we face.
But for a curly-haired, bright-eyed child such as myself, it was the doorway to a home-adventure I never desire to experience again.

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy praise.
Streams of mercy, never ceasing;
This the song to Thee I raise.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found;
I bring my love to Thee.

The sands of time are sinking,
The dawn of Heaven breaks;
The summer morn I've sighed for
My sleeping soul, awakes.