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Charlie Pelota Poem
The old truck hadn't been used in a while,
But it should be good for a few more miles.
Under the hood, the engine was rusty,
And the interior smelled faintly musty.
Assuming it would start--we all wanted to know...
When we put it in gear, would it actually go?
Someone called,"All the tires are flat".
But a little new air would take care of that.
Better get some fuel, since the gauge is on "E".
Wash the windshield, so the driver can see.
No problem to let it coast downhill to the mechanic's shop;
Next question:Are the brakes good enough to make it stop?
The truck was so bad, it had no heater fan.
But the Master Mechanic had a Master plan!
He took it to His shop for the needed repairs.
'Twas quite a long time that He kept it there.
He tinkered, and cut, and removed lots of stuff
Solving problems we had thought were real tough.
He put in new hoses, gaskets, and such.
What a joy to watch His skillful touch,
As He cut away the old to make room for the new.
Finally the day arrived when he was all through.
A great crowd gathered around the shop door,
To behold the new creation, there on the floor!
It was washed up, and pumped up,and all the fluids were filled.
Even the body He had been forced to rebuild.
Fresh paint;new tires;and the engine a'humming.
It was ready to face the world oncoming!
When flaws seem difficult to be fixed by man.
Stand back, and watch the touch of the Master's Hand.
Charlie Pelota
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2009
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Charlie Pelota Poem
Jesus You came down.
You loved.
You laughed.
You cried.
You taught.
You died.
You rose!
You called...
I heard!
I came.
I repented
I surrendered.
I was loved.
I learned to laugh again!
I was taught.
I grew!
I died daily.
I loved.
I shared.
Others heard.
They came.
They yielded!
They were taught.
They grew!
We praised!
We worshipped!
We thanked You!
We rejoiced in You!
And the circle continues.....
Because You were willing to come down!
Thank You Lord Jesus!
Charlie Pelota HSLP September 26, 2004
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2009
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Charlie Pelota Poem
In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
In the Pinta, Nina and Santa Marie
He found the New World,
And got spooked by a squirrel.
Thats the last you heard of C.C.
God had created the New World.
And saw that it was good.
In mystery it remained covered,
Till Columbus came and discovered
Just as his Lord knew that he would.
He sailed with the blessing of Spain
And when he dicovered the land,
He named it after Amerigo Vespucci,
('Cause he had not yet heard of Gucci,)
As God instructed him beforehand.
Charlie Pelota HSLP
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2009
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Charlie Pelota Poem
In the Forest, I stood straight and tall;
King of all I did survey;
Achoring soil;cleansing air;giving shade;
And doing other good works every day.
Ho! Yonder comes the Woodworker!
Now He has selected me!
When He grabbed His mighty saw and brought me down,
I wondered what I could be!
Ouch! There goes a huge limb;
Another; then one more.
Things I had grown attached to
Lay on the Forest floor.
Next came the peeling spud,
To trim off all my bark,
With it's pitfalls and imperfections.
They piled it high, and burned it starting with a single spark.
So now I'm standing naked;
As open as I can be!
When the Woodcarver looks me over,
What does He really see?
Now the work begins in ernest,
With saw, and chisel and rasp,
To make me as smooth as possible.
T'is not an easy task!
With His pencil and His ruler,
He lays out His grand design.
Soon the chips begin a'flying
But He stays within the lines.
First, chisel, rasp,sand,then file.
Then repeat the routine once more
But I'm being molded all the while,
As the shavings pile up on the workroom floor.
With tender patience, He continues at His task.
His tools get ever finer, as He works along.
People often stare at me and ask,
"Oh my, what will this become?"
Fiinally, one day He lays down His tools
And stands back,with a smile and a tear.
No, His labor wasn't easy.
He had toiled for many years.
Now He's taking me upstairs-
To be a permanent fixture in His home.
At last, the project is completed.
I hear you ask,"What is this now , that all the work is done?"
He tenderly replies," An image of My Son"
Charlie Pelota HSLP Dec 1, 2001
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2009
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Charlie Pelota Poem
The alarm clock signals a brand new day,
So I dress, and head for my job,to earn my pay.
It's a very pleasant morning, as I arrive at WOORRKK!
(Even the sound of that word makes me react with a jerk.)
I show up every day; whether it's in sun,or snow or rain.
OOPS! It's 7:35! Guess I show up late again!
Punch on the clock,and it's time to face the BOSS!
Reluctantly,I reach down,and pick up my daily cross.
Case and pull. Pull and case, while others around me whine!
The only question on my mind:"How long till quitting time?"
I ask the BOSS if she's"selling five" hours of annual leave;
Only to realize, I've no leave left(which causes me to grieve.)
So I face my case, and resume my work, with my head sadly bowed.
Must that guy working next to me , really be so loud?
OUCH! Another elastic broke--and I think that I know why!
But the response I get is,"Not my fault man, blame the other guy!"
Time to pull down and see that all my dear customers get served:
(Though sometimes they yell and complain--which really strikes a nerve!)
At last my truck is loaded, and I'm set to go.
"See ya later, slugs" I shout; then I'm on the road.
Scan my MSPs, and record the mileage and such;
If you ask me, I think this is too much!
I'm in and out of businesses, and running my route all through the day.
Scan barcodes; do parcels,and accountables--oh, and some letters along the way!
I've learned a lot of acronyms, that no civilian would ever guess:
Like NSN;UAA; FOE: and DPS!
But I'll soon retire, and be away from here.
My wife will call "JIMMMMY", to which I'll meekly say "Yes Dear".
I'll be running here and doing that, and fixing everything in sight!
Surely, she'll keep me hopping-- morning, noon, and night!
There'll be no more time for naps;
In fact I may have to work at a second job, so our insurance doesn't lapse!
And when I get old--eh, older--and am in my rocking chair,
I'll think about this job, and the good times I had there.
Reflecting on my career; yes even recalling working with this ungainly mob;
I'll awake one day and realize---I really DID love my job!
Charlie Pelota
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2009
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Charlie Pelota Poem
Today I watched a couple of construction crews;
Totally facinated by some of the tools they used.
Their work required them to be up in the air,
Yet 'twas by different means that they got there.
One crew used a telescoping arm,
And an enclosed bucket to keep the workers safe from harm.
Although the boom could handle jobs very tall,
The bucket's workspace was very small!
The second crew used a scissors-lift.
It required steady hands on the controls,--and that's a real gift!
The scissors mechanism is topped by a long, narrow, platform,
On which several workers could perform
Their given tasks, and have room to spare;
While being firmly supported way up in the air.
There are other jobs carried out in mid-air domains:
For example, consider the crews on our many airplanes.
Some men are lowered from the roof to do
The outside of office windows that executives look through.
And the highest mid-air job in this nation,
Are the astronauts who repair problems outside the space station.
My Father does His best work in the air!
He needs no lift, since He's already there.
What a beautiful sunrise He created today!
Remember the awesome clouds He gave us yesterday?
He orchestrates the seasons from His home in the sky.
Eons ago, He placed the sun, moon, and stars on high.
Someday He'll tell me my earth-work is done,
And He'll receive me to my eternal home.
I'll be transported, far beyond the highest of heavens,
Not by any type of lift, but by the Grace which He has given.
Charlie Pelota HSLP
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2009
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Charlie Pelota Poem
Hey there, whatcha lookin' at?
Yeh, you in the shadows, pretending like you're reading something.
That's right, YOU! You DO recognize me eh? Barabbas!
The meanest man in all Jerusalem!
Ya heard of me --right?
Remember the big uprising about a year ago?--That was my doing.
Perhaps you recall, I also murdered that guy.
Boy, he had it coming-he sure did!
Whazzatt? You thought I was still in prison?
Well---------I was until about five days ago.
Suddenly Pilate releases me in response to the cry of the crowd!
(Mebbee you was part of that mob!?)
Seems Pilate releases one prisoner each year at Passover.
This time it was between me and some Nazarene guy--name of Jesus.
Anyway, here I stand, a free man!
Whatcha say? What happened to Jesus?
Well I can tell you it weren't pretty.
First they mocked Him( He claimed He was some King dont'cha know)
Then they beat Him, pulled out His beard, and whipped Him.
I saw Him pass by carrying the heavy cross-beam.
He looked at me...and there was something about His eyes!
Sounds strange, but I actually felt like He loved me.
So I followed the procession to Golgotha where the Romans crucified Him.
It got so very dark--at noontime mind ya--and stormy too!
He called out,"Father forgive them!"-- then He bowed His head and died.
Well, they took Him down, and buried Him in some rich guy's tomb.
But yesterday, I heard people claim that He was risen!
Now His followers are telling EVERYONE that He is alive!
And--He will give eternal life to all who will come to Him.
That's where I'm headed now, to find out more information.
Ya wanna come along? Charlie Pelota
Happy Easter all.
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2010
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Charlie Pelota Poem
"Pizza and soda, there on the table;
Dig in, and eat as much as you're able."
Yet I beheld, with a spiritual eye,
As I gazed upon that pizza pie!
If you've got a moment, I'd love to share
The spirituall analogies I saw there.
When the box was first opened, and we were ready to eat,
The first thing I saw was plenty of MEAT!
On top of this, there was abundance of cheese.
(That's solidified MILK, if you please!)
Then the tomato sauce-which was red,
Reminded me of the BLOOD Jesus shed!
As I looked even further, my eyes were then led,
To the golden crust-one form of BREAD
It is cooked with OIL, which makes it taste so well,
And was RESURRECTED from the oven(a..k.a. sheol, or hell)
The circular shape was ETERNAL--no beginning nor end
And it had been cut(WOUNDED) time and again!
It's best when it's hot-and so should we be!
You might even find SALT if you ordered anchovies.
People come to eat and to be refreshed.
Does our spiritual food do any less?
Pizza can be delivered to your front door.
Shouldn't we likewise "deliver" the Gospel? For sure!
So eat your pizza, and enjoy your meal;
But don't neglect spiritual food, which is even more real!
Charlie Pelota HSLP
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2009
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Charlie Pelota Poem
He pulled into Birmingham, one cold,November day,
Having just come down from "Tulsey town" and Memphis by the way.
Time to call in to locate his next load;
"There's one I see in Tallahassee; better hit the road".
Gotta keep his big rig rollin',and hummin' out a truckers tune;
Whether he's hauling goods; or steel,or wood, they want it there by noon.
Sure, the economy's slow and those diesel prices continue to soar
But he,and his trucker friends,are all mighty men, with that pedal to the floor.
His days are long, and his nights are spent alone,
'Cause he has rent to pay--and that's okay-- his lovely wife is waiting at home.
He never knows where next he'll go;
Perhaps he's the trucker bound for Winnemucca--or Taos New Mexico.
When at last, his working week is through,
And he's on his own, heading home, his life begins anew.
His hometown lights are up ahead;only twenty miles to go!
After driving hard, he sees his yard, and the dear family he loves so.
The children flock to bestow their tender hugs and kisses;
He loves them all-when did they get so tall?- and then he greets the Mrs.
This is Wednesday, the night for midweek prayer.
His Sisters and Brothers,the Pastor and the others, all rejoice to see him there.
Through worship and prayer, he is renewed to face those long,lonely rides.
Yep, this hard-working American man,criss-crosses this land, with Jesus by his side.
He awaits the Lord's return and listens for that Trumpet Call!
On his final run, when his earthly work is done, then he will make his greatest haul.
For he's shared his faith at the local Seven-Eleven,
And in countless other places,countless other faces,will join his trip to heaven.
God gives each of us a specific call;
Will we reach the lost at any cost?-or will we forfeit all?
My hat is off to those 'good ol'gear-jamming boys'
Who speak to everyone they see, about true love and peace, while walking in God's pure joy!
Charlie Pelota HSLP
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2009
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Charlie Pelota Poem
This is autumn; a time for fairs,
Where local farmers show off produce, from that land of theirs.
Livestock is also another big hit;
And some folks are enjoying the horse-drawing pit.
But in many states, as any midwesterner knows,
Many gather to watch the tractor shows.
Cases, Masseys, and Internationals can be found;
And you may see a Rumley,or perhaps a John Deere around.
Classic tractors of days gone by.
Stirring memories ,and bringing tears of longing to many eyes.
But for tractor buffs, the highlight of the day,
Is watching the old steamers put on display.
Sometimes a saw-rig, or thresher is at the fair.
Perhaps an old haybaler may even be there.
The machine is parked, and then a tractor brought in,
Having an etra drum on the side, which can be made to spin,
By engaging a clutch, and drawing the engine's power.
Both connected by a long leather belt, they go hour after hour.
As long as there is still work to be done,
A belt driven machine can be continually run.
They never get tired, since all the power they've felt,
Comes from the engine at the end of that belt!
We humans also need an external source of "drive".
Because in our own strength we could never survive!
Just like a machine, we sit unused, in the field,
Til we're belted to a tractor, and the horsepwer it yields.
God has more power than we'll ever need.
We have to have Him working through us, if we are to succeed.
And He's willing to belt-up with us for any task.
He's merely waiting for us humbly to ask.
Charlie Pelota HSLP
Copyright © Charlie Pelota | Year Posted 2009
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