Darkness

Darkness covers all
With a heavy heart I call

How can the brightness shine
When I can only whine

To open the window
And be part of the show

But it is rusted shut
Forever I stay put

Dark row after row
From the black no light will flow

Light was never mine
Only death enclosed in pine

Encased by a wall
Waiting for the endless fall

By Leslie Chandler

'Twas The Fight Before Christmas

Twas the fight before Christmas when all through the house
Not a good deed was stirring, and Dad was a louse!
Their mother was angry and loaded with care,
‘Cause the gift list was longer than ever this year!

The children were nagging for gifts worth a ton,
And Dad was convinced, “Christmas just isn’t fun!”
With Mom’s loud complaining, and Dad mad at all,
They loaded the car for the trip to the mall!

They stopped first at Sears to buy Grandma a platter,
At Wards Sis tried on jeans that confirmed she was fatter!
They stopped at the ATM for some more cash,
And saw their new neighbours with their Christmas stash!

Hearts sank as they saw what their neighbours could spend,
“We’ve got to buy more!” Everybody chimed in!
When, what to their shopping red eyes should appear,
But a sign with the answer to their Christmas fear.

“Use credit, use VISA, use MasterCard,
Just run up their limits, it’s not very hard!”
More rapid than eagles, the charges, they came
And they whistled and shouted and called them by name.

Now Nordstroms, now K-Mart, now Price Club and Kinneys,
To Broadway, to Target, we’ll finish at Penney’s!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
Their packages piled up; they’d out-bought them all!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky,
So flew away hope of a Christmas of joys,
Not a problem was changed by the gifts and the toys.

And then, in a twinkling, Dad knew without doubt,
They needed to know, “What is Christmas about?”
That night in a dream he saw Bethlehem town,
And a babe in a manger with thorns for a crown!

And then what Dad saw brought the tears like a flood,
Christ’s back was all tarnished where lashes brought blood.
A rugged old cross was his tortuous rack,
As he shifted it’s weight to his now bleeding back.

His eyes, filled with burdens, ’twas nothing there merry,
The thorns had no roses, the night became eerie.
His dry thirsty mouth was drawn thin like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was plucked out cruelly, and slow.

The cross from his back held him high in his shame,
And the soldiers encircled his death with a game.
He had a kind face, in his eyes none saw hate,
And he shook when they laughed at his horrible fate.

He was dying for me, took my sins on himself,
And I wept when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A look in his eye, and the twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know, I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work;
And he took all my sin, and then turned with a jerk.
“It is finished,” he said. Death he willingly chose,
Then glory to God, from the grave He arose!!

Dad sprang from his bed, shouting what Christmas gives.
“It’s not all the gifts, but that Jesus now lives!”
So you’ll hear them exclaim, on their next Christmas night,
Happy Christmas to all, who will keep Christmas right!

By Author Unknown

EUROPE - THY NAME IS COWARDICE

EUROPE - THY NAME IS COWARDICE (Commentary by Mathias Dapfner CEO, Axel Springer, AG)

A few days ago Henry Broder wrote in Welt am Sonntag, "Europe ­your family name is appeasement." It's a phrase you can't get out of your head because it's so terribly true. Appeasement cost millions of Jews and non-Jews their lives as England and France, allies at the time, negotiated and hesitated too long before they noticed that Hitler had to be fought, not bound to toothless agreements.

"Europe ­Your Family Name Is Appeasement."

Appeasement legitimized and stabilized Communism in the Soviet Union, then East Germany, then all the rest of Eastern Europe where for decades, inhuman suppressive, murderous governments were glorified as the ideologically correct alternative to all other possibilities. Appeasement crippled Europe when genocide ran rampant in Kosovo, and even though we had absolute proof of ongoing mass-murder, we Europeans debated and debated and debated, and were still debating when finally the Americans had to come from halfway around the world, into Europe yet again, and do our work for us.

Rather than protecting democracy in the Middle East, European appeasement, camouflaged behind the fuzzy word "equidistance," now countenances suicide bombings in Israel by fundamentalist Palestinians. Appeasement generates a mentality that allows Europe to ignore nearly 500,000 victims of Saddam's torture and murder machinery and, motivated by the self-righteousness of the peace-movement, has the gall to issue bad grades to George Bush... Even as it is uncovered that the loudest critics of the American action in Iraq made illicit billions, no, TENS of billions, in the corrupt U.N. Oil-for-Food program..

And now we are faced with a particularly grotesque form of appeasement. How is Germany reacting to the escalating violence by Islamic fundamentalists in Holland and elsewhere? By suggesting that we really should have a "Muslim Holiday" in Germany? I wish I were joking, but I am not. A substantial fraction of our (German) Government, and if the polls are to be believed, the German people, actually believe that creating an Official State "Muslim Holiday" will somehow spare us from the wrath of the fanatical Islamists. One cannot help but recall Britain's Neville Chamberlain waving the laughable treaty signed by Adolph Hitler, and declaring European "Peace in our time".

What else has to happen before the European public and its political leadership get it? There is a sort of crusade underway, an especially perfidious crusade consisting of systematic attacks by fanatic Muslims, focused on civilians, directed against our free, open Western societies, and intent upon Western Civilization's utter destruction. It is a conflict that will most likely last longer than any of the great military conflicts of the last century - a conflict conducted by an enemy that cannot be tamed by "tolerance" and "accommodation" but is actually spurred on by such gestures, which have proven to be, and will always be taken by the Islamists for signs of weakness.

Only two recent American Presidents had the courage needed for anti-appeasement: Reagan and Bush. His American critics may quibble over the details, but we Europeans know the truth. We saw it first hand: Ronald Reagan ended the Cold War, freeing half of the German people from nearly 50 years of terror and virtual slavery. And Bush, supported only by the Social Democrat Blair, acting on moral conviction, recognized the danger in the Islamic War against democracy. His place in history will have to be evaluated after a number of years have passed.

In the meantime, Europe sits back with charismatic self-confidence in the multicultural corner, instead of defending liberal society's values and being an attractive center of power on the same playing field as the true great powers, America and China. On the contrary - we Europeans present ourselves, in contrast to those arrogant Americans", as the World Champions of "tolerance", which even (Germany's Interior Minister) Otto Schily justifiably criticizes. Why? Because we're so moral? I fear it's more because we're so materialistic so devoid of a moral compass.

For his policies, Bush risks the fall of the dollar, huge amounts of additional national debt, and a massive and persistent burden on the American economy - because unlike almost all of Europe, Bush realizes what is at stake - literally everything. While we criticize the "capitalistic robber barons" of America because they seem too sure of their priorities, we timidly defend our Social Welfare systems. Stay out of it! It could get expensive! We'd rather discuss reducing our 35-hour workweek or our dental coverage, or our 4 weeks of paid vacation... Or listen to TV pastors preach about the need to "reach out to terrorists. To understand and forgive".

These days, Europe reminds me of an old woman who, with shaking hands, frantically hides her last pieces of jewelry when she notices a robber breaking into a neighbor's house. Appeasement?

Europe, thy name is Cowardice.

---God Bless America

How To Get Along With People

1. Keep skid chains on your tongue; always say less than you think. Cultivate a low, persuasive voice. How you say it counts more than what you say.

2. Make promises sparingly, and keep them faithfully, no matter what it costs.

3. Never let an opportunity pass to say a kind and encouraging word to or about somebody. Praise good work, regardless of who did it. If criticism is needed, criticize helpfully, never spitefully.

4. Be interested in others, their pursuits, their work, their homes and families. Make merry with those who rejoice; with those who weep, mourn. Let everyone you meet, however humble, feel that you regard him as a person of importance.

5. Be cheerful. Don’t burden or depress those around you by dwelling on your minor aches and pains and small disappointments. Remember, everyone is carrying some kind of a load.

6. Keep an open mind. Discuss but don’t argue. It is a mark of a superior mind to be able to disagree without being disagreeable.

7. Let your virtues speak for themselves. Refuse to talk of another’s vices. Discourage gossip. It is a waste of valuable time and can be extremely destructive.

8. Be careful of another’s feelings. Wit and humor at the other person’s expense are rarely worth it and may hurt when least expected.

9. Pay no attention to ill-natured remarks about you. Remember, the person who carried the message may not be the most accurate reporter in the world. Simply live so that nobody will believe them. Disordered nerves and bad digestion are a common cause of backbiting.

10. Don’t be too anxious about the credit due you. Do your best, and be patient. Forget about yourself, and let others “remember.” Success is much sweeter that way.

By Author Unknown

The Ogre In The Pit

Once upon a time there was a White Knight looking for adventure. He came to a village where legends told of a terrible ogre in a pit. Bravely the White Knight took up the challenge. He would do battle with the terrible ogre in the pit.

The people remembered several courageous men who had climbed down into the pit, but no one could ever remember one of those champions returning.

The White Knight stood looking at the deep dark hole. The opening was so narrow that he stripped himself of armor and all unnecessary clothing. He took only a long dagger, which he tied around his neck with a leather strap. After securing a rope at the opening and testing it’s strength, he gripped it firmly and began lowering himself, hand under hand, letting the rope slip between his feet.

Soon he felt the smooth cool floor of the chamber. It took several minutes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but soon he focused on a large mound. Then he realized it was the bones of his predecessors, along with their assorted weapons. A little way off, he spotted another mound, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

Suddenly he was surprised by the inhabitant of the pit…. surprised because he didn’t anticipate the ogre would be only as tall as a rabbit. The ogre raised it’s arms and screeched with it’s squeaky voice, trying to appear a fierce as possible.

The White Knight picked up a sword from the floor and prepared to do battle, but quick as a rat, the ogre ran into a hole near the second mound.

The White Knight followed and the second mound became clearer and again he was surprised. Before his eyes glittered balls of gold as big as grapefruit and diamonds as big as plums. With only a small part of that treasure even a commoner would be a prince for life. The ogre lost it’s importance in view of this great treasure.

But the Knight had a problem. How would he carry it out of the hole? He had no pockets. Who would believe him if he didn’t bring back at least a piece?

He suddenly had an idea. He would take one of the diamonds in his mouth and carry it that way until he climbed out of the hole. He could always come back later for the rest. Hurriedly he chose one of the larger diamonds. It fit comfortably into his mouth and he began the arduous climb out of the pit, hand over hand, gripping the rope with his feet.

Higher and higher he climbed until the heavy exertion began to render him breathless. He would have to breathe through his mouth in order to get enough air. As he took a large gulp of air, the diamond slipped and stuck in his throat. The White Knight choked on his treasure, lost consciousness, and fell to his death on the mound of bones below.

You see, the terrible ogre in the pit was not the little troll. The ogre in the pit was greed….greed in the hearts of men who desire easy treasure and the hope of unearned gain. The glitter of this world choked him to death.

Then Jesus said to them, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” - Luke 12:15.

By Author Unknown

The Strength Of A Man

The strength of a man isn’t seen in the width of his shoulders.
It’s seen in the width of his arms that circle you.

The strength of a man isn’t in the deep tone of his voice.
It’s in the gentle words he whispers.

The strength of a man isn’t how many buddies he has.
It’s how good a buddy he is with his or “your” children.

The strength of a man isn’t in how respected he is at work.
It’s in how he is respected at home.

The strength of a man isn’t in how hard he hits.
It’s in how tender he touches.

The strength of a man isn’t in the hair on his chest.
It’s in his heart… that lies within his chest.

The strength of a man isn’t in how many women he’s loved.
It’s in how true he can be to the ONE woman he’s trying to love.

The strength of a man isn’t in the weight he can lift.
It’s in the burdens he can carry.

The strength of a man isn’t in how much food he eats from your table.
It’s in the effort he puts forth when you are unable.

The strength of a man isn’t in how he makes love.
It’s in the understanding that there is more to making love… than making love.

By Author Unknown

The Beauty Of A Woman

The beauty of a womanIs not in the clothes she wears,
The figure that she carries,
Or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes,
Because that is the doorway to her heart,the place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole,
But true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.

It is the caring that she lovingly gives,
The passion that she shows,
And the beauty of a woman
With passing years - only grows!

By Author Unknown

Final Inspection

Final Inspection

The soldier stood and faced God,

Which must always come to pass.

He hoped his shoes were shining,

Just as brightly as his brass.


"Step forward now, you soldier,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you always turned the other cheek?

To My Church have you been true?"


The soldier squared his shoulders and said,

"No, Lord, I guess I ain't.

Because those of us who carry guns,

Can't always be a saint.


I've had to work most Sundays,

And at times my talk was tough.

And sometimes I've been violent,

Because the world is awfully rough.


But, I never took a penny,

That wasn't mine to keep...

Though I worked a lot of overtime,

When the bills got just too steep.


And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear.

And sometimes, God, forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.


I know I don't deserve a place,

Among the people here.

They never wanted me around,

Except to calm their fears.


If you've a place for me here, Lord,

It needn't be so grand.

I never expected or had too much,

But if you don't, I'll understand.


There was a silence all around the throne,

Where the saints had often trod.

As the soldier waited quietly,

For the judgment of his God.


"Step forward now, you soldier,

You've borne your burdens well.

Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,

You've done your time in Hell."

~Author Unknown~


It's the Soldier, not the reporter who has given us the freedom of the press.

It's the Soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.

It's the Soldier, not the politicians that ensures our right to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.

It's the Soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag.

'Twas the Night Before Katrina (cajun style)

'Twas the Night Before Katrina (cajun style)

'Twas de night before Katrina, when all tru da state
Not a gas pump was pumpin', Not a store open late
All da plywood was hung, on de windows wit care,
Knowing dat a hurricane, Soon would be dere.

Da chilren were ready wit deir flashlight in hand
While rain bands from
da hurricane covered over our lan
And Mom wit her Mag-lite, and me wit my cap
Has jus filled da battub for flushing our crap..

When out on de lawn, there arose such a clatter
I sprang from da closet to see what was de matter
The trees on da terrace, and de neighbor's roof torn,
We feared we'd be dyin' in dis terrible storm.

Wit a little wind gus, so lively and quick,
I membered quite clearly our walls was not brick
More rapid than Eagles, her courses they changed!
And she whistled and wafted and surged all the same.

Off shingles! Off sidings! Off rooftops! Off power!
Down trees! Down fences! Down trailers! Down towers!
On da street of New Orleans, she continued to
maul,
Screaming Blow away! Blow away! Blow away all!

As da wind ripped and tossed da debris tru de sky,
I peeked out the shutters at the cars floatin' by.
So go to the attic my family did do,
With a portable radio and some batteries too.

And den in a twinkling, I heard on da set,
The end was not coming for a few hours yet!
As I calmed down da kids and was turning around
Tru de window it came with a huge crashing sound

A tree branch it was all covered in soot
De wind blew it smack-dab on top of my foot!
A bundle of twigs now lay in a stack
And my Livin' Room looked like it was under attack.

De wind how it howled, de storm very scary,
Myself and my family were all too unwary.
Da dangers of hurricanes are serious ya know,
Dey are taken for granted as Betsy did show.

Wit da winds dying down and da danger beneath,
I noticed my tool shed was missing its sheath
So I grabbed my last tarp, and nailed it on down,
Den I got in my car and drove into town.

Da traffic was awful and stores had no ice,
My 5-gallon cooler would have to suffice
Generators was scarce, not one left in town,
Dere was trees on the roads and power lines down.

FEMA was ready wit people to work,
Electrical companies came in from New York.
I sprang to da car, and gave my family a whistle,
Den away we all went like a Tomahawk missile!

You could hear us exclaim as we drove out of sight,
"The heck wit dis place, Texas seem just right!"

(Author unknown)