>>> Everything runs much slower, except the clock, but what can one say to something that says 'Tick - Tock?' <<<
By Arley Steinhour 010912
Here I sit, in mortality
I author poems for all to see,
I don't charge much, as I'm free,
That's how all Praise must be.
God must have good reason,
For keeping Old folk around,
Being old, to some, is Treason,
They'd rather see Old in ground.
Jesus may want us old folk here,
as loving guides, to children young,
They, under twelve, need never fear,
Over heads, Sin Laws, not hung.
We old folk, and the young,
On launch pad, so to speak,
On us, much Prophecy is hung,
Once gone, there is no need to seek.
Keep the trumpet close to lip,
Eyes upon the sky,
it 's almost time for Snatching trip,
When Jesus comes flying by;
Snatch away, bride so quickly
In the blink of eye,
Bride won't be in tribulation,
And we never more will cry.
So love him, seek him,
Faith, do keep,
Lamp filled, Wick in trim,
Do not fail His sheep.