He did it for you
He did it for me
He rose from his grave to set me free
He gave it all
He would do it again
He gave his life
For my sins
They couldn't keep him down
Devil you cant win
Jesus died and rose again
He died
He didnt stay
He rose
On the third day
Jesus where do I begin
Thank you for doing it for me over and again
I never knew grace was granted me
I didn't know that having faith in you would set me free
I never knew my problems you would carry them all
Be there to catch me when I fall
You were whooped with many stripes
You still did forgive
So that we could live
You sacrificed your life
Im so thankful
Jesus Christ
He died
He didnt stay
He rose
On the third day
Jesus where do I begin
Thank you for doing it for me over and again
Jesus , is all I can say
Thank you for loving me in a way
Thank you for all that you gave
So that I could be saved
(Repeat 1x)
He died
He didnt stay
He rose
On the third day
Jesus where do I begin
Thank you for doing it for me over and again
(Repeat until chorus fades)
Written by Concetta Hardnett
04/05/2026
See, Gram, the minute.
You missed the crawl.
You wanted me to climb
high, but it was cut short.
You see, Gram, look
at my eye. I see them all.
You see none, but
you see me. The whole
tree and nothing but truth.
I’ll not em-bark. I might kill.
At the least, I tremble.
Don’t you see, the little.
Don’t stomp on me.
Don’t cause me to go
on a journey that is already
in progress. The road’s
traveled by ants in the pants;
if I so choose, they’ll digress.
I wonder how many I stomped,
sat upon, made a ruination.
I only know I yelled for help
or whooped it up on the bough.
Let’s take a walk young man.
But, Gram, don’t you see?
We’ve nowhere to go. See
the cracks, see the light.
She rolled up her piano and tucked it underneath her chinny chin chin
off the the courtyard she went to play a tune from Mama Balloon
"Absolutely not or never" said porky pig as she played shiny, to win
inside the water fountain a red cap bobbed and floated like a loon
Singing to the top of her voice every tonsil quivered as she did her gig
bass lined to the music she strolled the keys on a piano forte made of pulp
"Play it again " cried Petunia Pig while re-arranging her imaginary wig
but as the rain began to fall, Suzie stopped playing and began to gulp
Suffering Cilantro your piano has turned into nothing more than mush
said the little piglet with a tiny little bugle nose as bright as a red rose
"I got a rockjam keyboard made of foil at home" she began to gush
but all she heard was " Tsk tsk tsk" and suddenly the oink just froze
"Send out the clowns" huffed Piggly Wiggly Bob who lisped his nouns
and so Suzie with an origami thingy ma jig fined tuned a little trumpet
"Keep it coming" whooped Porky Pig and Daffy Duck painting the town
they danced to the beat of " Oh Susannah" without hurry without fret.
Karl Marx was a historian and scholar
Groucho Marx whooped it up and hollered
Both of them were starved for attention
Neither of them honorable menschen *
____________________________________
* 'Menschen' in Yiddish literally means 'men.'
But it is used to describe honorable, decent
human beings, kind and caring.
Ed the science teacher encouraged us
To see what floats, the brilliant little cuss
We learned right away that Chet's Mom, she does not play
We ruined her dry-cleanable new velvet suit.
And both of her shoes, and her hat to boot.
But, Ma, it is a science assignment Chet said.
She was so angry, she whooped him and sent him to bed.
So I went home and experimented with stuff in the kitchen.
Pop Tarts, crackers, flour, sugar. Now my mama is ’n.
Lots of things don’t float Mr. Ed. Maybe you are daft in your head.
She pumped the air and whooped,
'The holidays are through!'
She danced a jig, she spun,
and did a moonie too.
The grinning mother yelled,
'They're back to school again!'
But then her laughter died,
she groaned in awful pain
and mopped her furrowed brow,
for she's a teacher now...
written 20th August for Francine's Back to School contest
The sun got tangled
in the branches of an old Hawthorne.
Daybreak hung down
in grey strips, like a torn parachute
among the knuckled finger-bones
of the grasping tree.
Meg, the younger sister of Bill,
wanted to shin-up and dislodge it.
we thought there was a good chance
we boys would catch a glimpse
of her knickers, so we agreed
to give her a leg-up.
Her skinny limbs, skirt hiked up,
snaking through the spiky twigs
until she was about half-way
to the sun.
Black branches shook
and thorns rattled,
then they loosened their grip
and the sun rose.
Meg whooped and almost fell.
We others grinned sheepishly;
Bill looked at us
as if we were all crazy.
I can remember a time not so long ago
When children whooped it up most all day
Playing outdoor games with made-up names
And caring little for come what may
But now, they spend countless hours
Manipulating hand-held electronic gadgets
And have absolutely nothing to say.
Written June 17, 2021
We got a bubble machine and rigged it up a bit.
To the cow water trough, it was a really tight fit.
Come on! I urged Bubba, grandma’s nap won’t last.
I knew if she caught us, we’d be whooped hard and fast.
We were giggling so hard, probably due to the beer.
Who brought it over to Grandma’s, it really ain’t clear.
What you mak’n? Asked a young’n, making me mad.
Never mind, I told her. Go away, try to find your dad.
You better not be making no still, came a voice out the window.
It was Grandma, so we all held ourselves real quiet and slow.
We were mak’n a Jacuzzi out of her cow trough with the garden hose.
Whether it came out better than the spaceship, only God knows.
An old nincompoop from Madagascar
Bought a jalopy and entered NASCAR
He avoided the crashes
Drove around all the smashes
Too bad he bought a slow not a fast car
The race over, the old fellow was sad
To finish in last place hurt him real bad
Then a girl gave him a kiss
You can't imagine his bliss
The poor fool war-whooped and hollered like mad
March 01, 2021
Two Limericks - Let's have some Fun! Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Syllable Counts 10 - 10 - 7 - 7 - 10 each stanza
Checked on Poetry Soup Syllable Counter
I will take a goblet of that and two shot glasses of that, sure why not?
My eyes will cross twice and fire will come out of my eyes, but it is okay.
I am ready to take on whatever torture you have for me; let me have it.
I am not afraid of anything today; feeling frisky, foxy, and feminine.
The cowboy backed away from the table, and ran screaming from the bar.
Afraid of old ladies? Scared he would be whooped? We asked each other
Laughing maniacally, not really caring, for we had been drinking since three.
He actually thought he had seen his grandmother in that little filly’s eyes.
So proud of you
from the very first time
he held you in his arms
and as you grew
he could see in you
the young man
you would become
his ultimate pride
when going to Uni
was on graduation day
as patiently waiting to see his boy
walk across that stage
finally your name
and when you came
Dad
whistled
Dad
whooped
Dad
clapped with joy
for on that stage
his pride and joy
'twas you his very own Boy…
Written on Father's Day for my Grandson 21st June 2020
Contest STRAND COMPLETELY NEW POETRY (1)
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Once upon a time...
when I was only twelve years old
I'll share a story with you all...
A story, I've often told
One of my best friends, at that time...
Was walking home from school
When three white boys started beating on him...
Those bastards- oh, so cruel
I didn't understand why they picked on him...
Just because his skin was dark as night
But he was my friend, so I went nuts...
And I jumped into the fight
I was throwing punches in every direction...
Not caring if I got hit
But until those bullies were all on the ground...
My temper would not quit
I went home with a black-eye that day...
But those bullies, I whooped their a..
And I made them all apologize...
While I still had a little more gas
This story is true, I'm telling you...
And this is how it ends
For the past fifty years, Brian and I...
We still remain "Best Friends"
How can you look forward to a future looking through a horrific past.
I had to grow up alacritous.I ran before I crawled in the grass.
Fought many fights, A couple of them whooped my ass.
Every day can’t be to be strictly only stress in.
Faced many mistakes while learning my lessons.
Had to close a few doors to attend my true blessings.
It’s adamant to stay strong on my feet.
Carrying a rib caged heart that constantly skips a beat.
Gasping for understandings behind hot breath that don’t care.
I continue to embrace love regardless of emotions,fears and feelings that are so baffling to bare.
Daybreak dangled in foggy strips.
Mizzle had mugged the day,
grey-flecked cuckoo spit
smuggled summer under hoary roots.
Bill formed an Indian gang
to snatch the light back.
Later, parting the scalp of a hedge
we saw the sun
tangled in an old hawthorn.
Meg, (Bill’s sister),
wanted to shin-up and dislodge it.
There was a chance
we would see her knickers
so we gave her a leg-up.
Her skinny limbs
snaked through the spiky twigs.
Half-way to the top
the sun cut loose, drifting
beyond her reach.
Meg whooped and almost fell.
We boys grinned as her bare legs
slide down onto our shoulders.
Bill looked at us
as if we were all crazy.
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