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Posts Tagged ‘connetta’

The old cabin sits
nearly hidden
high on a Ridge
overlooking a lake..
there are no roads
only paths
made by deer
and a woman
called Katiedid.
they say
she left home
30 years ago
wouldn’t go back..
lived off the streets.
her grandma Lydia
died in this cabin.
in Late Autumn
Katiedid can be seen
walking from town
carrying a blanket
a frying pan
a fishing pole
and suitcase..
throughout the summer
i’m told she prefers
to sleep beneath
the 6th street bridge.
Once winter sets in
smoke will be seen
from across the lake.
if you get close enough
you can smell
fresh fish frying
and sassafras tea…
strangers leave
fine cloths
fresh fruit
milk and bread
on sunday mornings…
with notes
inviting her
to church..
as she hides
in the attic…

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Today I took a quiet walk
listening to the graveyard talk
Silent voices ment to be read
( the after thoughts of the dead)
Each one seems to say
Goodbye,farewell in  their own way
I have no clue what mine should say
( i’ll give it thought after today)
one i found to be quite old
with a message stern and bold..
It gives me shivers down my spine..
Someday it will  surly come my time….

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Looking inside
the dark  tomb
i saw a window…
it’s beauty was not
for eyes
outside the walls…
twenty-four handles
for
twenty four graves.
a family united…
by death….
100 and ten
years
of sleeping…..
the old broom
in the corner
i’m told
is for sweeping
away the sins…
a  stone sculpture
of an angel
rests
above the door
as if to carry
their souls
to heaven….

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Every day at sunset,
Stacey got behind the wheel
drove down a country road,
to a small church on a hill
she sat on them concrete steps,
winter summer spring and fall
people drove by all the time,
just to stare a Stacey Hall
it’s better than a play ground,
she told her friends and family.
it’s a play ground for my kids,
but it’s a house of God to me.
One day Sister Susan,
called up Brother Paul
said I’m getting tired,
gettin tired of seeing Stacey Hall
she don’t belong to our church
and I don’t like her at all
I think the elders of our church
should talk to Stacey Hall.
Well the congregation gathered,
as the sun began to fall
and faithfully they all agreed,
they’d soon see Stacey Hall.
Suddenly the sky turned black
and a bolt of lightning hits
a tree beyond the little church
where the congregation sits.
brothers don’t judge brothers,
sisters do the same
love your neighbor faithfully
and praise praise praise His name.
Stacey saw the hurricane,
just as she pulled in
and she was glad to see some cars
and rushed inside to warn them
once inside the basement,
where they was safe and warm
the Elders watched as Stacey clutched
Her Bible through that storm.
I say, brothers don’t judge brothers,
sisters do the same
love your neighbor faithfully
and praise praise praise His name.
Now every day at sunrise,
Stacey meets with everyone
to rebuild the little church
they’re working till the settin’ sun
the children love playing hide and seek
and the Elders one and all
love to drive by their little church,
just to wave at Stacey hall.
brothers don’t judge brothers,
sisters do the same
love your neighbor faithfully
and praise praise praise His name.

once inside the new church
a book fell from a pew
and there in bold black letters said
“I will judge not you”

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There’s a man Charlie Ray
slept underneath a bridge
out on county road 18 south
on top of Dogwood Ridge.
Shelters offered him a home
but Charlie said “no way”
“I own this land and i plan
to build me a church someday”.
Now Charlie hand carved a cross
that he wore around his neck
one day a stranger stopped by
and bought it with a check
Old Charlie took that check
and bought a rusty old chain saw
and every night that summer you
could hear the timber fall.
Charlie never asked a soul
‘cept Jesus to help him
but every day a stranger would
stop by and be a friend
some were just out drivin’
south on Dogwood ridge
and saw a man sawing logs
over by the covered bridge
some were sleeping and woke up
to hear the timber fall
and felt a need to help the man
using that chain saw.
it was early Autumn when
Charlie took that saw to town
came back with two hammers
nails and marked the ground.
now some were just out driving
south on Dogwood ridge
and saw a man hammering nails
over by the covered bridge.
some were sleeping and woke up
to hear a hammer pound
but there’s a church on Dogwood ridge
that’s standing on Holy ground….

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In the shadows
of the sun
i saw
a little church
peeping through
the top
of  A hill…
with the bright
light
of the sun
casting
a glow
like a star
above it…
within the rays
a line of Orbs
seemed to say
Angels are near…
(certainly here).

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Looking into the tomb
i saw one Orb…
bright and white
in perfect form
( it did not appear
in other photo’s)
I saw  3  windows
of beautiful glass…
on 3 separate walls…
i did not see them
untill i  grew close
and looked  within
a rod iron gate
upon a bolted door….
I wonder now
was the orb
locked within
the walls
of the tomb
forever floating…
or does it visit
when the day
is bright…
and dance
in it’s light
for spirits gone…

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at the top of the hill
above daisys  blooming..
is a tiny graveyard..
surrounded by
a rusty fence..
the gate has no road….
one must walk the path.
from the meadow below
it seems
to touch the clouds…
There a poet sleeps
on pillows of words
100 years
of buried time…
I go there
hoping to hear
the words
lingering
in the wind..
that speak only
to those
who  hear
such things…
where the wind
whispers thoughts…..
long forgotten.

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One late Summer afternoon in June
After a gentle rain came dancing by
I sat  real still  high on a hill
On a rock beneath the sky…
The road i came still smelt of rain
it’s rocks drying one by one
But, I felt at home,not all alone
with the rock the sky and sun.
The day was cool,it warmed my soul
as i whispered into the summer breeze
“If  it’s no bother,a daughter to Father
talk is what I’d like Lord,if you please”..
‘Twas then I must have fell asleep
for my heart it seemed to stop
as i flew just like the Eagles do
Looking down upon the old rocks top..
I heard a silent voice that seemed
to be telling me to see
 for years of long His voice was strong
talking constantly to me..
i excused it as a thought and not
God taking to me ( I couldn’t see)
that yes for sure,that opened door
was never closed to me.
I heard a voice that said quite clear
 ”listen for a door to open silently
and let be heard as a  silent word”
child you’ll know it’s me”
then i awoke and a fog like smoke
seemed to stand right where i stood
and I heard the sound of a door
Open like He said it would.
I realized I need not pray
For He knew about me inside out
And I was safe in His grace
for that I had no doubt.
Since that day i must say
I wonder how He knew that I
surly would know if I could
what it feels like to fly.
and true to His word I have heard
Him chatting all the time
Silently, words just for me
& I find them in my  mind..
The door that opened never closed
and He promised me quite faithfully
that Father to daughter, i need not bother
to listen for His  door to close on me…

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Walking around the old house
i found a  open window .
( her doors was bolted shut).
a feeling of guilt
overcame me
as i took 1 picture..
I used no flash..
i was capturing the light
from the other side..
and  liked the darkness
within this space…
when i got home
i lightened the picture
And  saw the Bible
laying among the ruins..
it almost frightened me..
I felt a shock.
of all things to be
among dust and ruins
within the trash.
Animals have been  there
and crawled around
the filthy floors…
i did not expect
to find
a Bible there…
a broken sliver
of glass
pointed to it..
Now this picture
seems to haunt me
brings me back
again and again…
searching for
a message..

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