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I sow; my successor reaps. This is the majesty of democracy.

quote by Gloria Macapagal Arroyo
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The Brus Book XVIII

Only Berwick remains in English hands; a burgess offers to betray it]

The lordis off the land war fayne
Quhen thai wist he wes cummyn agan
And till him went in full gret hy,
And he ressavit thaim hamlyly
5 And maid thaim fest and glaidsum cher,
And thai sa wonderly blyth wer
Off his come that na man mycht say,
Gret fest and fayr till him maid thai.
Quharever he raid all the countre
10 Gaderyt in daynte him to se,
Gret glaidschip than wes in the land.
All than wes wonnyn till his hand,
Fra the Red Swyre to Orknay
Wes nocht off Scotland fra his fay
15 Outakyn Berwik it allane.
That tym tharin wonnyt ane
That capitane wes of the toun,
All Scottismen in suspicioun
He had and tretyt thaim tycht ill.
20 He had ay to thaim hevy will
And held thaim fast at undre ay,
Quhill that it fell apon a day
That a burges Syme of Spalding
Thocht that it wes rycht angry thing
25 Suagate ay to rebutyt be.
Tharfor intill his hart thocht he
That he wald slely mak covyne
With the marchall, quhays cosyne
He had weddyt till him wiff,
30 And as he thocht he did belyff.
Lettrys till him he send in hy
With a traist man all prively,
And set him tym to cum a nycht
With leddrys and with gud men wicht
35 Till the kow yet all prively,
And bad him hald his trist trewly
And he suld mete thaim at the wall,
For his walk thar that nycht suld fall.

[The marischal shows the letter to the king,
who seeks to avoid jealousy between Douglas and Moray]

Quhen the marchell the lettre saw
40 He umbethocht him than a thraw,
For he wist be himselvyn he
Mycht nocht off mycht no power be
For till escheyff sa gret a thing,
And giff he tuk till his helping

[...] Read more

poem by John Barbour
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Of Coarse Fools

Vile, scolding words do irritate,
Good manners thereby will abate
If sow-bell's rung from morn to late
.

A new St. Ruffian now holds sway,
Men celebrate him much today
And honour him in every place
With words and ways that spell disgrace,
And make a jest of ribaldry,
Though belted not with decency.
Sir Decency is doubtless dead,
Fool holds the sow's ear, wags her head,
And makes the sow-bell loudly ring
So that the sow her ditty sing.
The sow leads on and cannot fail,
She holds the fools' ship by her tail,
That laden down no wreck it be,
For that would bring great misery.
The wine no fool today would heed
That's quite inferior wine, indeed.
Full many a litter breeds the sow,
And wisdom lives in exile now;
The swine on decent people frown,
The sow alone now wears the crown.
Whoever rings her bell, that man
Is now the one who leads the van,
While he who does such foolish work
As that famed priest of Kalenberg,
Or as Monk Islan long of beard,
He thinks that he's himself endeared.
Some men in folly are so free
That if Orestes them could see –
He had no brains beneath his hat –
He'd say: 'Sane men can't act like that.'
'Come clean to village' lost its sense,
For peasants drink and give offense.
Sir Alderblock is roundly fêted,
With Roughenough and Seldom Sated.
Most every fool doth love the sow
And wants to have his grease box now,
Which he keeps filled with donkey's fat.
But rarely is it bare of that,
Though everyone would take a piece,
To keep his bagpipes well in grease.
Now grossness everywhere has come
And seems to live in every home,
And sense and prudence both are dead.
What now is written, what is said,

[...] Read more

poem by Sebastian Brant
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His Majesty

It will be unmatched by anything, the coming majesty of our King,
Fully unmatched and unsurpassed; a majesty that will forever last.
His Majesty, witnessed by a few, whom The Lord personally knew,
The Majesty of God’s Only Son, appearing on Earth for everyone.

Many know Him as their Savior, Jesus Christ, our God and Creator,
Though we’ve yet to see His Majesty, we’ll behold it for all Eternity.
Majesty, that we worship presently, we’ll worship together eternally,
When we see Christ face to face, after we’re lifted up by His Grace.

Even all, who don’t believe as us, who in Christ, have put their trust,
Shall see His Majesty up in the sky, as Christ returns with you and I,
This, as all eyes on earth will see, the coming of our Lord’s Majesty,
But as the Judge, for all of them, who in unbelief stand condemned.

The time for believers is drawing near, when the trumpet we will hear,
When we’re gathered to our Savior’s side, as His Holy Chosen Bride.
Presently, we cannot fully appreciate, the Glory of Christ as we wait,
Neither can we truly comprehend, Christ’s Eternal Majesty my friend.

Together with the saints of old, Christ’s Glory we shall soon behold,
As we see the Majesty of Christ, who rose, to give men Eternal Life.
The splendor of His coming friend, shall bring a dark age to its end,
As He brings this age to a close, with a Majesty, that no one knows.

(Copyright ©09/2008)

poem by Bob Gotti
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The Cap And Bells; Or, The Jealousies: A Faery Tale -- Unfinished

I.
In midmost Ind, beside Hydaspes cool,
There stood, or hover'd, tremulous in the air,
A faery city 'neath the potent rule
Of Emperor Elfinan; fam'd ev'rywhere
For love of mortal women, maidens fair,
Whose lips were solid, whose soft hands were made
Of a fit mould and beauty, ripe and rare,
To tamper his slight wooing, warm yet staid:
He lov'd girls smooth as shades, but hated a mere shade.

II.
This was a crime forbidden by the law;
And all the priesthood of his city wept,
For ruin and dismay they well foresaw,
If impious prince no bound or limit kept,
And faery Zendervester overstept;
They wept, he sin'd, and still he would sin on,
They dreamt of sin, and he sin'd while they slept;
In vain the pulpit thunder'd at the throne,
Caricature was vain, and vain the tart lampoon.

III.
Which seeing, his high court of parliament
Laid a remonstrance at his Highness' feet,
Praying his royal senses to content
Themselves with what in faery land was sweet,
Befitting best that shade with shade should meet:
Whereat, to calm their fears, he promis'd soon
From mortal tempters all to make retreat,--
Aye, even on the first of the new moon,
An immaterial wife to espouse as heaven's boon.

IV.
Meantime he sent a fluttering embassy
To Pigmio, of Imaus sovereign,
To half beg, and half demand, respectfully,
The hand of his fair daughter Bellanaine;
An audience had, and speeching done, they gain
Their point, and bring the weeping bride away;
Whom, with but one attendant, safely lain
Upon their wings, they bore in bright array,
While little harps were touch'd by many a lyric fay.

V.
As in old pictures tender cherubim
A child's soul thro' the sapphir'd canvas bear,
So, thro' a real heaven, on they swim
With the sweet princess on her plumag'd lair,
Speed giving to the winds her lustrous hair;

[...] Read more

poem by John Keats
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Your Majesty

Your majesty, if you will
I realize that I am not worthy
Of licking the slime from your shoes
But I would that I could

Your majesty, don't you see
You're worth nothing to me
Though the world may worship you
You're simply a chauvinistic pig

Your majesty, we can tell
That you hold yourself in high opinion
You find no self faults
And you are self-centered

Your majesty, we realize
That you are blind to your own faults
And you are blind to the trials of others
You believe yourself to be the center of the Universe

Your majesty, anyone is better
Than you, in your self-possessed vanity
And the world realizes that I
Am more beautiful than you

Your majesty, none would ever
Get in line to be your queen
Because you are ruthless, selfish, vain
And none could be uglier than you

Your majesty, we all hope
That you realize the err of your ways soon
Because if you don't, we will revolt against you
And I shall be placed upon the throne over you

Your majesty, start to change
For the people around you change
And increasingly learn to hate you
So try harder to make others happy

Your majesty, instead
Of revelling in your own "beauty"
You should be striving to make the world more beautiful
Instead of making it an even uglier mess that we are left to clean up
Thank you, your majesty

poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
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Philosophy

Told ya darlin
All along,
I was right and you were wrong.
A-pleasin you,
So hard to do.
Cried all night long,
Was beatin through.
Cant sow wild oats
spect to gather corn.
Cant take right
And make it wrong.
Told ya darlin,
Long time ago,
You gotta reap
What you sow, and what you sow, yeah,
Is gonna make you weep,
A-some day,
A-some day,
A-some day.
Yeah, what you sow, yeah,
s gonna make you weep.
Tried to keep you
Satisfied;
Broke my heart,
Crushed my pride.
Its all over now,
But all I see
Is a lonely road
And a memory of
Daily walkin
And talkin
bout joanne.
Cant ya see,
I said, daily walkin
And talkin.
Cant sow wild oats
spect to gather corn.
Cant take right
And make it wrong.
I told ya darlin,
Long time ago,
You gotta reap
What you sow, and what you sow, yeah,
Gonna make you weep,
A-some day,
A-some day,
Some day.
Yeah, what you sow, yeah,
Gonna make you weep,
A-some days.

song performed by Van Morrison
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Canto the Ninth

I
Oh, Wellington! (or "Villainton" -- for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
France could not even conquer your great name,
But punn'd it down to this facetious phrase --
Beating or beaten she will laugh the same),
You have obtain'd great pensions and much praise:
Glory like yours should any dare gainsay,
Humanity would rise, and thunder "Nay!"

II
I don't think that you used Kinnaird quite well
In Marinet's affair -- in fact, 't was shabby,
And like some other things won't do to tell
Upon your tomb in Westminster's old abbey.
Upon the rest 't is not worth while to dwell,
Such tales being for the tea-hours of some tabby;
But though your years as man tend fast to zero,
In fact your grace is still but a young hero.

III
Though Britain owes (and pays you too) so much,
Yet Europe doubtless owes you greatly more:
You have repair'd Legitimacy's crutch,
A prop not quite so certain as before:
The Spanish, and the French, as well as Dutch,
Have seen, and felt, how strongly you restore;
And Waterloo has made the world your debtor
(I wish your bards would sing it rather better).

IV
You are "the best of cut-throats:" -- do not start;
The phrase is Shakspeare's, and not misapplied:
War's a brain-spattering, windpipe-slitting art,
Unless her cause by right be sanctified.
If you have acted once a generous part,
The world, not the world's masters, will decide,
And I shall be delighted to learn who,
Save you and yours, have gain'd by Waterloo?

V
I am no flatterer -- you've supp'd full of flattery:
They say you like it too -- 't is no great wonder.
He whose whole life has been assault and battery,
At last may get a little tired of thunder;
And swallowing eulogy much more than satire, he
May like being praised for every lucky blunder,
Call'd "Saviour of the Nations" -- not yet saved,
And "Europe's Liberator" -- still enslaved.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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Don Juan: Canto The Ninth

Oh, Wellington! (or 'Villainton'--for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
France could not even conquer your great name,
But punn'd it down to this facetious phrase-
Beating or beaten she will laugh the same),
You have obtain'd great pensions and much praise:
Glory like yours should any dare gainsay,
Humanity would rise, and thunder 'Nay!'

I don't think that you used Kinnaird quite well
In Marinet's affair--in fact, 'twas shabby,
And like some other things won't do to tell
Upon your tomb in Westminster's old abbey.
Upon the rest 'tis not worth while to dwell,
Such tales being for the tea-hours of some tabby;
But though your years as man tend fast to zero,
In fact your grace is still but a young hero.

Though Britain owes (and pays you too) so much,
Yet Europe doubtless owes you greatly more:
You have repair'd Legitimacy's crutch,
A prop not quite so certain as before:
The Spanish, and the French, as well as Dutch,
Have seen, and felt, how strongly you restore;
And Waterloo has made the world your debtor
(I wish your bards would sing it rather better).

You are 'the best of cut-throats:'--do not start;
The phrase is Shakspeare's, and not misapplied:
War's a brain-spattering, windpipe-slitting art,
Unless her cause by right be sanctified.
If you have acted once a generous part,
The world, not the world's masters, will decide,
And I shall be delighted to learn who,
Save you and yours, have gain'd by Waterloo?

I am no flatterer- you 've supp'd full of flattery:
They say you like it too- 't is no great wonder.
He whose whole life has been assault and battery,
At last may get a little tired of thunder;
And swallowing eulogy much more than satire, he
May like being praised for every lucky blunder,
Call'd 'Saviour of the Nations'--not yet saved,
And 'Europe's Liberator'--still enslaved.

I've done. Now go and dine from off the plate
Presented by the Prince of the Brazils,
And send the sentinel before your gate
A slice or two from your luxurious meals:
He fought, but has not fed so well of late.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Democracy v Liberty

The fathers of democracy.
The ancient Greek philosophers
were dependent on slavery.

Which leaves me in a quandary.
How can it be democracy
to have such inequality?

I think democracy should be
a universal human right.
Though it is not quite obviously.

An ideal to aspire to.
Which one day might be possible.
The time has come now to review.

What we mean by democracy.
If everybody has their say.
It might well lead to anarchy.

When we elect a government.
The will of the majority
is what they’re meant to represent..

But it seems they rarely do.
This cannot be democracy.
the many are ruled by the few.

Who gain control quite legally
because their wealth allows them to
encouraged by our apathy.

The systems open to abuse
The people have the power to
insist on change; which we don’t use.

We vote or not just as we choose.
A facet of democracy.
I would be hesitant to lose.

It seems to me democracy
is something which we can’t achieve
and still retain our liberty.

There is no way that I can see
which will be fair to everyone.
I must admit despondently.

A partial democracy
is what we have and will retain

[...] Read more

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Baby Mermaid Majesty

There’s a brown eyed mermaid
who lives deep in the sea,
she is a baby who is only three.
Her best friend’s name is Melodie.
Now Melodie has a surprise for her,
It’s a wig with lots of curls.
Colorful curls that glow in the dark,
same color as a costume shaped like a shark
Majesty will have a party by the lagoon,
Majesty will turn age four real soon,
Brown eyed Majesty will invite her friends,
her friends Melodie, Sarah, Opal and Pelican.
Majesty will receive many gifts,
Pelican will hold gifts in his beak,
dropping presents that are really neat.
Down to shore where they will meet,
Light birthday candle is a special treat.
For UniCandle unicorn will be there,
He has a crystal horn and mane of white hair.
Majesty’s birthday wishes will come true,
UniCandle’s horn is magically through and through.
Majesty knows that the gift from Melodie is the best,
it is special not like the rest.
Majesty will wear the shark costume and wig of curls,
swimming in the ocean like a baby shark girl.

(By Suzae Chevalier May 29,2011)
www.puppetpoems.com www.purplepoems.com

poem by Christina Sunrise
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Brown Eye Baby Majesty Mermaid

There’s a brown eyed mermaid

who lives deep in the sea,

she is a baby who is only three.

Her best friend’s name is Melodie.

Now Melodie has a surprise for her,

It’s a wig with lots of curls.

Colorful curls that glow in the dark,

same color as a costume shaped like a shark

Majesty will have a party by the lagoon,

Majesty will turn age four real soon,

Brown eyed Majesty will invite her friends,

her friends Melodie, Sarah, Opal and Pelican.

Majesty will receive many gifts,

Pelican will hold gifts in his beak,

dropping presents that are really neat.

Down to shore where they will meet,

Light birthday candle is a special treat.

For UniCandle unicorn will be there,

He has a crystal horn and mane of white hair.

Majesty’s birthday wishes will come true,

UniCandle’s horn is magically through and through.

Majesty knows that the gift from Melodie is the best,

it is special not like all the rest.

Majesty will wear the shark costume and wig of curls,

swimming in the ocean like a baby shark girl.

[...] Read more

poem by Suzae Chevalier
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The Queen's Jubilee Celebrations

'Twas in the year of 1897, and on the 22nd of June,
Her Majesty's Diamond Jubilee in London caused a great boom;
Because high and low came from afar to see,
The grand celebrations at Her Majesty's Diamond Jubilee.

People were there from almost every foreign land,
Which made the scene really imposing and grand;
Especially the Queen's carriage, drawn by eight coloured bays,
And when the spectators saw it joyous shouts they did raise.

Oh! if was a most gorgeous sight to be seen,
Numerous foreign magnatss were there for to see the queen;
And to the vast multitude there of women and men,
Her Majesty for two hours showed herself to them.

The head of the procession looked very grand -
A party of the Horse Guards with their gold-belaced band;
Which also headed the procession of the Colonial States,
While slowly they rode on until opposite the Palace gates.

Then the sound of the National Anthem was heard quite clear,
And the sound the hearts of the mighty crowd it did cheer;
As they heard the loyal hymning on the morning air,
The scene was most beautiful and surpassing fair.

On the house tops thousands of people were to be seen,
All in eager expectation of seeing the queen;
And all of them seemed to be happy and gay,
Which enhanced the scene during the day.

And when Field Marshal Roberts in the procession passed by,
The cheers from thousands of people arose very high;
And to see him on his war horse was inspiring to see,
Because he rode his charger most splendidly.

The Natal mounted troops were loudly cheered, they looked so grand,
And also the London Irish Emerald Isle Band;
Oh if was a most magnificent sight to see.
The Malta Militia and Artillery,
And the Trinidad Artillery, and also bodies of infantry,
And, as the crowd gazed thereon, it filled their hearts with glee.

Her Majesty looked well considering her years,
And from the vast crowd burst forth joyous cheers;
And Her Majesty bowed to the shouts of acclamation,
And smiled upon the crowd with a loving look of admiration.

His Excellency Chan Yin Hun in his carriage wan a great attraction,
And his Oriental garb seemed to give the people great satisfaction;
While the two little Battenberg's carriage, as it drove along,

[...] Read more

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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In democracy

In democracy
Writ of the peole runs.
In democracy
Repesentatives should not
Called leaders.
In democracy
Representatives must not
Act as er whim.
In democracy
Representative should not
Show dictatorial style.
In democracy
Representative should not have
Arrogance of power.
In democracy
Treachery and
Ruthless decisions
Not good.
In democracy
The representatives
Should be sensitives
Towards sensitive issues.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Natures Democracy

Democracy is at America's heart
You lead while others follow
And your citizens bear the right to be free
With freedom comes responsibility
And democracy applies
To all who inhabit this earth?

Within this premise Kyoto speaks
That sound which disturbs
The majority of a wider democracy

You deny their global solution
In favour of the American way
But there are whispers in the wind
For nature too believes in democracy
And nature will make the agreement for you

For she is omnipotent to unleash her democracy
You can deny your future, but your ghosts will deny you
This way of life feeds a changing climate
And nature gathers her strength
Slowly rising to give you her answer

The Hurricane and tornado
The desert and the flood
Her democracy to maintain
A balance within the hemispheres

Your Freedom is a noble thing
For freedom lies in every beast.
But only humans carry the burden of democracy
This is the price we pay for freedom

But freedom is worthless
When all you grow is destroyed
When all you build is washed away
When all that you hold dear is taken without mercy

Look over the fence America
Look beyond your borders
Look at your planet
And look at this baby born
For it may never grow up to remember you

poem by Steven Cooke
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Perfect Day

Just a perfect day..
Drink sangria in the park
And later, when it gets dark
We go home
Just a perfect day..
Feed animals in the zoo
And later, a movie too
And then home
Its such a perfect day
Im glad I spent it with you
Such a perfect day
You just keep me hanging on..
You just keep me hanging on..
Just a perfect day..
Problems all left alone
Weekenders on our own
Such fun
Just a perfect day
You made me forget myself
I thought I was someone else
Someone new
(chorus)
-
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.
Youre gonna reap, just what you sow.

song performed by Duran Duran
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sow Better Seeds

The first shall be the last and,
The last shall be first;
So, do sow better seeds along the way of your life.
You will reap what you sow and,
You will be trapped in your own traps;
Like the first and the last.
'Penny wise and Pounds foolish',
The saying of a message to calm down the rivers;
The weather us warm and bright but,
You are without the words of your father.

Our sins, what are its wages?
This is the message to calm down the seas;
For only one night,
For only one love,
To feel what i used to feel when love calls;
Like a message to calm down the oceans.
A poem of shirts,
A poem of skirts,
A poem of shoes,
A poem of trousers!
Like the daughter of the earth;
This is a message to calm down the waters.

Till the stars shine through the roofs,
'Penny wise and Pounds foolish';
Dark fell the night like English Slaves in the woodland.
The last shall be first,
With eyelids heavy and red;
Do sow a better for a better tomorrow.
The last shall be first and,
The first shall be last;
Gain your tomorrow like a golden cup.
You will reap what you sow,
Like the law from a father's word;
You will reap what you sow.

Of all the flowers,
The reapers reaped;
But when he morrow comes,
Some works of a noble note is much needed.
To seek and to find without yielding is the case here,
Like unequal laws unto a savage race;
Sow a better seed and,
Learn how to do your best in all things.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Deeds I Seed and Sow

We all have made our decisions.
And began taking paces,
Towards our fates.
On selected paths.

With eyes we hoped were clear.
To afford our desires,
An unregrettable pass.
Undeterred and focused.

Many wished it easy for themselves.
And followed upon a certain,
Obstacle free smooth surface.
Less bumpy of sweat and grind.
To prove those who sought to be challenged...
Would find they've been left behind.

And the ones overwhelmed,
With a process thought ridiculous...
Chose to live lives of deception and tricks.
Hoping to lick,
A system that would award them with triumph!
Quick.
To impress with appearances dressed.
And finding an acceptance,
From those addressing polished images seen.

'Be patient with yourself.
Do not look down in depression.
Or to the side for anyone else.
If your abilities merit attention...
There will be little,
From your lips you will have to mention.
Your deeds will speak,
For themselves.

Within your mind keep this repeated,
'Deeds I seed and sow...
Will speak for themselves.'

'Deeds I seed and sow...
Will speak for themselves.'

'Deeds I seed and sow...
Will speak for themselves.'

Within your mind keep this repeated.
Do not allow defeat be seated!

'Deeds I seed and sow...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Georgics

GEORGIC I

What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights
Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year
Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,
If by your bounty holpen earth once changed
Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear,
And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift,
The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns
And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing.
And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first
Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke,
Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom
Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes,
The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power,
Thy native forest and Lycean lawns,
Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love
Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear
And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too,
Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough;
And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn,
Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses,
Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse
The tender unsown increase, and from heaven
Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain:
And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet
What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon,
Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will,
Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge,
That so the mighty world may welcome thee
Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow,
Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come,
Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow
Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son
With all her waves for dower; or as a star
Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer,
Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws
A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self
His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more
Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt-
For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king,

[...] Read more

poem by Virgil
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Our Lord’s Majesty

So very Glorious is our King, The Lord and God of everything,
So clothed in Heavenly Majesty, greater than any eye can see,
Robed in Glorious Eternal Light, piercing the dark of our night,
Our God with an Eternal Plan; higher than the thoughts of man.

Above this world He ordained, His Majesty can’t be contained,
Sitting above this earthly sphere, God Himself, is always near,
For His stool, all the earth, yet, we are to Him of special worth,
God reaches down to dwell in us, by the Spirit of Christ Jesus.

God’s Majesty is shared with none, but, Christ His Eternal Son,
Who is now at God’s right hand, with authority over every land,
The Eternal Author of Salvation, Who reigns over every nation,
Who will soon return in Majesty, to earth, for every eye will see.

His Majesty, Christ set aside, but His Authority was not denied,
When He was born on this earth, to afford men a spiritual birth,
As a body was prepared for Him, to be redemption for our sin,
As God Himself, became a man; to fulfill His Redemptive Plan.

As God’s Lamb, Christ had died, but, was raised and Glorified,
And is coming back, to receive, every heart, who does believe,
Changed in the twinkling of an eye, to meet together in the sky,
To reign with Christ eternally, in the presence of God’s Majesty.

(Copyright ©02/2010)

poem by Bob Gotti
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Shelly Meets Majesty Mermaid

Kavasutra Kava Bar is the only Kava bar
where you can play fun games,
Kavasutra has a mascot which is a coconut
and Shelly is her name.
Since Shelly befriended Majesty mermaid,
Shelly’s life has never been the same,
Majesty and her play hide and seek games.
Majesty mermaid can swim really fast,
Shelly tries to catch up with her and
swims into a seaweed patch,
Shelly gets stuck and laughs and laughs.
Majesty now has to use her tail to unknot
the seaweed that makes Shelly the shell caught.
Luckily Majesty gets Shelly untied,
they go to Kavusutra Kava Bar to unwind.
Sitting by a window at high noon,
they drink a cool Kava drink so smooth.
More adventures with Shelly and baby Majesty,
color in their picture and give it to mommy.

Written by Suzae Chevalier on January 13,2011
www.suechevalier.com

poem by Christina Sunrise
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