I wrote this poem awhile back, after reading my first version of 'Gypsy Violin'. It took several writings, but I think I like this version of the poem best.

The bow is raised
The fingers poised
A slight smile crosses her face
As the first strains of the guitar soar.
The violin strings quiver
As the bow dances madly across the strings.

The night is filled with the sound of
A gypsy violin.

Wandering silently in the night.
The moon and the stars by their silvery light.

Reveal a maiden fair.
With scarlet cloak and long golden hair

Riding through the darkness and many trees
Whispers, whispers, are heard in the leaves.

“Why does she flee?”
Behold the answer, that I do see.

Darkness follows her
A man clothed in black..

A man who sits upon a grand horse's back.

“Come here my love.” does he cry.
But in his voice there is a lie.

“Over the mountains misty and cold.
Beneath the rivers and fields of old.

With weary eyes and tired feet.
There did I and the Stranger meet.

Over the mountains misty and cold.
Beneath the rivers and fields of old.

Standing still like in a dream.
I look up and see my King.

Over the mountains misty and cold.
Beneath the rivers and fields of old.

And should I run like birds in flight.
I should see the City of Light.

Over the mountains misty and cold.
Beneath the rivers and fields of old.”

Yes, I’m still on this. No, I have not given up Turkish Delight forever. Third time’s the charm, right?

I’m sitting outside in our driveway on an old beach chair while my four-year-old brother plays in his turtle sandbox. The sun is warm, but the air is decidedly March-like—crisp and cold; the chilly kind, that gets inside you—and I’m sitting here with a hood over my head wondering what on earth I’m doing out here and how Joseph can bear having nothing on his feet. Maybe the sand is warm. Maybe he’s warmer, somehow. Maybe there’s something in us when we’re young that’s still half-full of Heaven.

I gaze at the moon and see myself reflected there in her silver mirror face,
I Glimpse her soul, an ocean of memory engulfing past, present, and future,
I see her alone, standing there, watching over the sleeping world, a gentle mother watching over her little ones.

In her pale face I see myself, in her detachment from all else,
In her place surrounded by stars and sky,
Yet so alone in her empty world of night.

In Acts 10:38 it says "...Jesus of Nazareth...who went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil; for God was with him."

This scripture, among many others, encourages and commands us to actively seek after and engage in worthy service. Good Works has been defined as 'helping others and building the kingdom through righteous service'. We all know what service is and that it is a commandment to serve our fellowmen. We undertake service projects all the time and often engage in helpful activities.

Alicia Townsend lay in her bed and stared at the rough wooden ceiling above her. Snippets of the night’s conversation floated through her mind. As usual on Friday nights, her dad and his friends had gathered in the main room of their small house to discuss the local politics. Naturally, their conversation had focused primarily on the recent rebellion that had split the country in two.

“We’ve tolerated the corruption in the government long enough,” her dad had declared. “If the king wants our money so he can build a bigger castle for himself, then let him come and get it.”

A moment passes, maybe two.
My heart awaits finding you.
When I do, dear to me will you be.
So close your eyes and place your hand in mine.
Our hearts will whisper to each other.
Whispering in a way only hearts can do.
A prayer I have said for you my dear.
A moment passes, maybe two.
My heart awaits finding you.
When I do, you will love me.
And I will love you.

The Incredible Disappearing Man