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Joyce Ashton Poem
I left behind A COMFORTER, when I went to MY FATHER'S house: I went to help prepare
the MANSIONS that I told you about:
Though I'VE been gone over 2000 years, I know every thing you do: For every day of
your life, I stand right next to you:
WE, sadly, look at you today the way that We did then:
WE gave you all another chance: That's why I took your sins:
To save yourselves today, just give your souls to me:
Remember, MY child, THE THREE are ONE and that the ONE are THREE:
Copyright © Joyce Ashton | Year Posted 2005
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Joyce Ashton Poem
Though darkness falls and clouds hangs low,
Though trouble speeds toward you where ever you go,
I'm still here!
Loved ones are dying,
Leaders always lying,
Wealth and reaches are rear
Communities don't seem to care,
I'm still here!
I'm here because of divine of appointment,
I'm to love, to cry, to give, to testify
Here to shine a light in a cold and dreary peace,
Here to share a smile with another scared and hurt face.
I'm here to show there is always hope.
Here to laugh with you, cry with you, help you to cope.
Yes, I'm still here and will endure to the end,
I'm still here... I will always be.......I AM A FRIEND!!!!
Copyright © Joyce Ashton | Year Posted 2005
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Details |
Joyce Ashton Poem
Who was this man who came to earth to help us one and all? Who was this
man who loved us so for us HE took the fall? Who was this man who walked
the earth in spirit and in truth? Who was this man with humbleness, so
strong, did nothing wrong, was always right but laid down HIS life for us
at Pilite's throne?
Was this the man the Grama spoke of in her stories of Joseph, Mary and Ruth? Was
this the man that Ma referred to when in my youth I'd complain, Ma, I try to treat
every body right but bad thing always seem to happen to me an people scandalize my
name: Mom's reply would always be, "Child, sit down and listen to me. They did
the same to Jesus Christ, a perfect man, no sin at all; For us this man, this
perfect man, for us HE gave HIS all:
HE lived HIS life as if HE were HE were poor when HIS FATHER has riches galore:
HE walked along the dusty streets bending down many times a day: He bent down to
pick up spirits of those who spirits were low; HE bent down to pick up broken
hearts putting joy where there was once woe; HE bent down to pick up dirt for
mud to restore sight to the blind; Then lastly, my dear daughter, HE bent down
to lie upon a cross to die for your sins and for mine.
Copyright © Joyce Ashton | Year Posted 2005
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