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Saturday, Feb. 25, 2017

LOVE Poems, by Don Szabodi

Posted Saturday, December 25, 2010, at 10:20 AM

No greater Love has a man than he give up his life for those he loves. Jesus did, and we are supposed to be willing. Don Szaboi, sounds like that kind of Brother. AMEN
Merry Christmas, one and all.

I offer up a 'Double Barrel' shotgun Love, by the Father of some dear friends of mine. You read his words, and if you will agree, here's a true man of God, with deep Love in his heart. I've yet to meet him, but I know I will; if not on earth, then you know where, and it ain't not Hell.

So have a Very Merry Christmas Day, with your Family and friends; just like I'm gonna, with mine.

Christ is CHRISTmas

By Don Szobodi, a Child of the King.

A long tie ago, God planned the birth of his son,

On what we call Christmas Day.

And I think he knew his son would be called the truth,

The light and the way.

Even today, God knows your thoughts and deeds,

He even knows if you believe in the one called "I Am He".

For His word said: "Some have ears by do not hear,

Some have eyes but do not see".

A joyous occasion, we celebrate by showing our love

For other with gifts galore.

Could we stop for awhile and shower him with our praises

And invite him in as he knocks on our door?

We celebrate his birth, we also honor his death, and resurrection

We know as Easter morn.

I'm sure that the storm drops that fell as Jesus hung on the cross

Were from the crying of Angels, that's why for our sins he was born.

So, CHRIST is CHRISTmas, for without His birth,

There would be no place for our soul to go.

There will be no Christmas trees in Heaven

But there will be trees along the banks of the river of life,

Whose waters from God's throne will flow.

For when each of us grow old and reach that appointment

That the beating organ stops deep within our chest.

Putting His Son back in Christmas, God will say:

"I am well please, enter into my rest".

Don Szobodi

A Child of the King

Sock in the Hall

By Don Szobodi

There's an old knotted-up-sock that lays in my hall,

It's tattered and dirty as it was tossed in the air instead of a ball.

I haven't moved it for some time as it lays in silence as if asking to play.

It may stay there forever because it reminds me of a dog that left me one day.

I Hesitate and walk around it as it is so prominent there on the floor,

That's where he dropped it, just a foot away from my bedroom door.

It belonged to my pet, a dog if you will

One of God's four legged creatures, a companion so dear.

Who slept at the foot of my bed, content as his sock lay near.

Maybe some day I will move it,

But for now I'll let it lay, sort of a tribute to him.

And I wonder if God made a place for our pets to go when they die,

I'll know once my eyes forever dim.

Now, as m hair gets grayer, I don't think I'll have time

For another sock in the hall.

As I enter into the winter of my years,

It's already fall.

Don Szabodi

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