How thou hast shaped me, and increased my life,
O Rose! Before, I was a squall, a storm
of melancholy and dark, bitter strife:
a soul already lost like a vile worm
on a dry sidewalk on a hot, sunny day.
Without hope or joy, without faith or God,
I spiraled, and at risk of losing my way,
my hateful heart thought thoughts that none can laud.
But O, dear Rose! Reformed by thee, made whole
once more by thy bottomless love and wide-browed beauty,
I am a new being fashioned by thy sweet soul,
and now transformed through thine unwavering fealty.
Rose, my storm was broken up by thy light,
so that I'm no more a worm in God's sight.
between speaking and doing
there is a long road to walk
and a great desert to march
an immense sea to cross
Repositories of The British-Donated:
Of texts like bombs detonated;
Books from their libraries discharged;
The-Given-Out, not a dime charged …
A Harvest of The Happily Released
Because of The New that must be increased;
Books that have lost The Right to Remain There,
Better reasonably dumped elsewhere
Between The Hard paper Back
Like strong keys to hack
And The Partly Fragile of Skin
Whose sight sometimes win …
Books freely circulating British Philosophy
But equally peddling America’s Theosophy;
A growth presumed from Her Majesty’s Concern
For our Intellectual Darkness times ten!
Also, a reply to the worries of her users
Wanting to occupy seats sort of useless.
God Had Increased
All of the food to eat, God increased;
Baking bread helped raising of yeast;
To be endured,
He had cured;
Controled husband when a big beast.
Jim Horn
Increased and Policed
Amount of worry we had increased,
And for weapons area was policed;
Much discovered;
Evidence uncovered;
Together problem had been pieced.
Jim Horn
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