Finally

For those patient few, who have resisted the temptation to see this same picture at Donkey Boy's blog, here we are the Pella ball.

Mercy Comes Softly

After sorrow, joy.
First the darkness, light.
Mercy comes softly,
Morning proceeds the night;
Wings anticipating flight.

Love, not unrequited,
Sweet sorrow telling,
"My face Will Be Hidden."
Tears, unbidden, welling,
While joy has found a Dwelling.

Covenant colors
Arch across the sky;
Faith unto the faithful,
Blessings upward fly.
Grace found, ever nigh.

Hope, undistaining,
Grief, itself, entombs.
Thriving, love and joy,
Spreading fragrant blooms.
Dispelling fears, mercy softly comes.

Paradise

by George Herbert

I bless thee, Lord, because I grow
Among the trees, which in a row
To thee both fruit and order ow

What open force, or hidden charm
Can blast my fruit, or bring me harm,
While the inclosure is thine arm?

Inclose me still for fear I start;
Be to me rather sharp and tart,
Than let me want they hand and art.

When thou dost greater judgements spare,
And with thy knife but prune and pare,
Even fruitful trees more fruitful are:

Such sharpness shows the sweetest frend,
Such cuttings rather heal than rend,
And such beginnings touch their end.

This poet has so far amazed me with the truthful paradox that shows up in his style. The poem in particular I found inspriring.

Ryme and Rythm

Thanks to Naddy's writings, and the tips from Naddy's Daddy, I've found some great old poetry books. Naturally, I turn right to the bloody, bravery stuff first. Enjoy the enstallment below. Found some great ones by Ben Johnson too, but that's another subject...

For those interested, the Pella ball went marvelously. I will try to post pics eventually. The trip went smoothly. We made some new friends, and found some we already knew. To top it all off we saw America's largest working Dutch windmall, and 2nd smallest Wal-Mart.

Bannockburn

Robert Bruce's Address to His Army
By Robert Burns

Scots, wha ha'e wi' Wallace bled!
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led!
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to glorious victorie!

Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lower!
See approach proud Edward's power-
Edward! chains and slaverie!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Traitor!coward! turn and flee!

Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Free-man stand, or free-man fa',
Caledonian! on wi' me!

By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall-they shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Forward! let us do, or die!