Saturday, September 21, 2013

Poem: Man-Made Natural Wars

This poem was written by me Lauralee Hensley, the Lauralee Hensley of this blog.  It was written on 9-21-2013
POEM:  Man-Made Natural Wars
Sickle made rockets and torpedoes flying in the wormwood sky, through raging sea.
With their targeted seismic explosive waves volcanos sulfuric lava will break free,
scorching ocean coral and smother everything in the path even cascade mountain tree.
Volcanos trigger the crust of the earth to break it's rock hard bread.
How many, oh how many, by it's Satanic offering will end up dead?
Flows running backward in rivers, water spilling out of lakes,
with each shake they are reminded of their Anti-Christ mistakes.
Tidal waves crashing into communities by the shore,
billions of dollars of damage is the least of which is in store.
Diseased dead bodies stuffed in body bags the worst chore.
Yet, they still curse GOD as their Anti-Christ still rules souls core.
Water contaminated by radiation floods and rains upon the ground,
little safe water to use or drink is even found.
Reactors foundations tossed to and fro,
slowly melt down and without cool waters do blow.
Giga counter held by suited inspector,
clicks to the rich, clicks to the poor,
it isn't safe to live here anymore.
Realities, realities of man-made triggered natural war.
Saturated ground growing deadly mold,
store houses of food empty, nothing left to be sold.
Many never prepared for emergencies even though told,
EMP's burn electrical circuits so many homes in summer too hot, in winter too cold.
Most phones melted inside,
families unable to check on loved ones to know who is living or who has died.
Out of control multiple electrical fires burning.
For the skyward meeting with Jesus Christ, Christians keep on believing, yearning.
Arriving in towns sick, wild animals seeking safety from the floods or fire.
Violent, ugly encounters with them and mankind will transpire.
People isolating themselves from one another,
so plagues don't pass from brother to brother.
Some nearly hardened hearts now seek out Biblical Truth and Salvation through the Son.
Others are still at that Anti-Christ point and from mere mention of God they run.
Wars of many kind are here, wars of many kind to be.
Let us pray it's not to late for our country.
Be a blessing, Pray for Israel's peace and safety.
Pray that the Jews will accept Jesus Christ's Salvation and from sin be set free.


Monday, September 16, 2013

LISTENING FOR THE ARRIVAL

LISTENING FOR THE ARRIVAL.
 
Listen for the Millennial Reign of Jesus Christ's Kingdom Coming.
Don't you hear this age around us louder and louder drumming,
while Angels practice for the Brides arrival with harps a strumming?
 
Hold on, hold on to the Grace of the Father's Love.
Hold on to his Son who'll come back from Heaven above.
Hold on, hold on to the Holy Spirit who is here with you,
he will help your mind and soul travel the journey  through.
 
Natural Disasters frequently  bringing out the worst and best in men.
Civil and global wars birthing no true freedom, just evil over again.
Whose Faith will surmount such agendas filled with Anti-Christ trends?
 
Hold on, hold on to the Grace of the Father's Love.
Hold on to his Son who'll come back from Heaven above.
Hold on, hold on to the Holy Spirit who is here with you,
he will help your mind and soul travel the journey through.
 
Share Salvations truth while the dimming light still dawns and sets.
We were once utterly lost in sin, Oh Lord God do not let us forget.
Our Father desires us to live for him so our lives will be free of regret.
 
Hold on, hold on to the Grace of the Father's Love.
Hold on to his Son who'll come back from Heaven above.
Hold on, hold on to the Holy Spirit who is here with you,
he will help your mind and soul travel the journey through.
 
Wounds of bitter un-forgiveness must be mended and heal even now.
If you can't find the Christian strength to do it, ask God In Heaven how.
Drop to your knees in prayer, silence mere selfishness, oh humbly bow.
 
Hold on, hold on to the Grace of the Father's Love.
Hold on to his Son who'll come back from Heaven above.
Hold on, hold on to the Holy Spirit who is here with you,
he will help your mind and soul travel the journey through.
 
Each day this burning aged fuse is shorter, its' convergence fleeting.
Apocalypse horsemen to arrive on colored horses with hoofs a beating.
Armies of  God to descend,  victorious warriors, with no retreating.
 
Hold on, hold on to the Grace of the Father's Love.
Hold on to his Son who'll come back from Heaven above.
Hold on, hold on to the Holy Spirit who is here with you,
he will help your mind and soul travel the journey through.
 
Give yourself to The Father since there is  quickening little time.
Do not believe the lies of Lucifer that this age is so perfectly sublime.
Many people consumed by fire, flood, famine, disease, blood crime.
 
Hold on, hold on to the Grace of the Father's Love.
Hold on to his Son who'll come back from Heaven above.
Hold on, hold on to the Holy Spirit who is here with you,
he will help your mind and soul travel the journey through.
 
Misguided sexual relationships after a casual date or repeated cheating.
Transmitted diseases in many hot then quickly cold beds many greeting.
Many broken hearts turn to suicidal actions to end wretched aches beating.
 
Hold on, hold on to the Grace of the Father's Love.
Hold on to his Son who'll come back from Heaven above.
Hold on, hold on to the Holy Spirit who is here with you,
he will help your mind and soul travel the journey through.
 
Repent, repent, Jesus Christ died for sins we've done or will be through.
Ask him to change your hearts longings with his thoughts pure and new.
Welcome him in as your Savior, his invitation is not for only a few.
 
Hold on, hold on to the Grace of the Father's Love.
Hold on to his Son who'll come back from Heaven above.
Hold on, hold on to the Holy Spirit who is here with you,
he will help your mind and soul travel the journey through.
 
Poem by Lauralee Hensley, the Lauralee Hensley of this blog.
Poem written 9-16-2013


Sunday, September 1, 2013

The Black Rose

First of all the poem below that I wrote on 8-31-2013 is fiction, yet since I believe in Miracles I think this poem reflects that.  I titled the poem  The Black Rose.
Poem by Lauralee Hensley (the Lauralee Hensley of this blog).
 
 
The Black Rose
 
Where or where
is the girl who'll wear my flower in her hair?
 
The young soldier knew he was going to war.
He was afraid of what was in store.
 
He had no one that cared, family dying when he was barely seven.
From foster home to foster home he bounced, for a total of eleven.
 
Often he still felt his strong childhood fears,
of being alone even though many soldiers were near.
 
He remembered what his mom often would say,
when taking him to the Doctor a town away.
"With God in your heart he will make the afraid brave,
if they stand with him, asking which way to behave."
 
So he asked God to bring into his life,
the perfect girl to be his only wife.
 
God spoke to his heart, "Find the girl
who will wear a black rose among her head of curls."
 
Later that day his soldier buddies  talked him into going for a drink.
He grabbed the black rose and off he went without a blink.
 
The soldiers teased him when he only had a cola.
Girls there teased him about the rose mocking he should live in  times of the Victrola.
 
He told the gang being there didn't feel right
and that he'd be leaving for the night.
 
A heart heavy, a face carrying a frown,
he went to the park and found a place to sit down.
 
A pretty girl with a headful of curls walked closely by,
pointed at him and asked "Why?"
"Why soldier do you carry a black rose?"
He replied "Because God told me to find my wife with it, I suppose."
 
Bells started ringing in the air,
as he thought 'Where oh where is the girl who'll wear my flower in her hair!'
 
"I'm sorry," said the girl
with the headful of curls.
"I'm on my way to church and those are the bells,"
she hesitated and then thought 'Oh Well.'
"They tell me it is about to start,"
she said with a longing for this soldier in her heart.
"Why don't you come too?"
"Why not," replied the soldier, "Me and this black rose have nothing to do."
 
So they went and sat side by side on that church pew.
She smiled at him as he felt the will of God and knew what he must do.
 
God said to his heart "Where oh where is the girl who'll wear your flower in her hair?"
"She's worshipping the GREAT I AM, close enough to be breathing the same air."
 
After church was over he asked her to go for a bite to eat.
She agreed as she stood up from her seat.
 
They had a nice time at the café.
He knew he must give her the black rose to wear before she went away.
 
She asked him why a black rose.
He thought a bit and said, "I suppose."
"I suppose it represents all my fears,
and someone that can understand that is more than dear."
 
She gently put the black rose in her hair and said "This rose shows how much you care."
He grabbed her hands thinking "God here is the girl who'll wear my flower in her hair."
 
Soon they married on a beautiful day
and people whispered and pointed her way.
 
"My oh my she has a black rose in her hair!" many astonished did say.
Yet God would show all there a miracle on that day.
 
For when the last "I Do" was said,
what happened to the black rose upon her head?
 
It turned white as it took away his greatest fear,
for she had become his only wife, his dear.
 
The rose never withered, nor in any way did it decay,
even when the soldier to war had to go away.
 
So one day when she looked at herself in the mirror she did see,
that the white rose was changing color and with God she did plea. 
 
The white rose was now red,
and God gently told her heart he was now in Heaven, no more fields of battle to tread.
 
She wanted to rip the red rose from her head.
She wanted to see it in shreds.
 
Yet in her heart God said,
"You carry a part of him with you instead. 
Tell them about this miracle rose of black, white, red, 
when you tuck them in gently into bed."
 
The next day to the Doctor she went,
with a spirit that was grieving and bent.
 
The Doctor said, "There is a special life in you,
in fact I believe there are two."
 
So she continued to wear the red rose in her hair,
though many thought it a curse and to beware.
 
Yet, God told her it was a sign of undying love,
that floated down always from up above.
 
The girl and boy were born on a very fine day,
and what happened to the rose became another miracle that day.
 
It turned the brightest white to represent life,
to the soldier's only dear wife.
 
She told her children as they grew,
miracles of the rose and how the children brought her happiness she'd never before knew.
 
She said "I'll be your only dear mother,"
to the little sister and brother.
 
She saw parts of her soldier in each of their children everyday.
She taught them the love of God and how to pray.
 
She told them through God that their Father and her found each other.
Through a brave soldier listening to God they were a family of a mom, sister and brother.
 
The children grew up and moved far away.
One to a dry part of the country and one near a bay.
 
The mother's curls turned gray than white.
She went to heaven gently in her sleep with her children by her side,  one very quiet night.
 
The white rose in her hair again turned to red.
The children knew it was another miracle and said,
"God we'll press this red rose in the most special book tonight.
We'll tell her grandchildren of the miracles if that is alright?"
 
Together they gently placed the red rose in the Holy Bible that night,
where it had it's last miracle it turned white.
 
This poem was written by me:  Lauralee Hensley.
Please only alter it, if I have made spelling errors, or grammar errors.
Do not change the intent of it, or the feeling of it please.
Once again, it is fiction, but still do not change the words to make it yours or to read as you'd have it read.  I intended for God to be a part in this poem, because I know he is the maker of miracles.  Thank you.  You may copy and post this poem if you want.  I expect no compensation from it, monetarily or otherwise.