Category Archives: Literature

The glory of God’s Kingdom

I’ve seen the glory of God’s Kingdom,

walked golden streets in my dream,

listened to angels sweetly singing,

sheltered safe beside a quiet stream.

 

I saw lions and lambs frolic in green pastures,

watched mankind’s children, and cobras at their play.

When I heard our Him so gently speaking,

awed and  humbled, I fell upon my knees to pray.

 

Peace and love overflow the Holy city.

There is shelter for all beneath His mighty wings.

All who know of God’s goodness love and praise Him,

and to His everlasting glory sing.

 

I’ve seen the glory of God’s Kingdom.

Oh how I wish that I could stay.

Perhaps if I love and obey Him,

He will ask me to come back some day.

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The Simple Truth

Today’s youth cry out

what is truth,

and truth replies

just as loud to youth.

 

you must seek me

if you wish to know my name,

and when you find me,

you must play my game.

 

I’m as elusive

as a dandelion seed

upon the wind.

and I’ll slip like quicksilver

from you’re hand.

 

but if you find me

and hold on,

I’ll prove to be,

your best friend.

 

I’m fragile,

so easily broken,

but I’m  a sacred bond

in any land.

 

If you use me  in earnest,

treat me with respect,

you can settle any dispute,

with a simple shake of your hand.

 

I’ll slip like quicksilver

from your hand.

I’m as elusive

as a dandelion seed

upon the wind,

but when you find me

and hold on,

I’ll prove to be,

your very best friend.

 

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Music Box Dreamer

Ann grinned at her sister, “Slow down moppet. Give me time to answer one question before asking another one.”   “Sorry Annie,” but there was only joy in the teen’s voice and delight dancing in her eyes.   Annie’s grin grew bigger, “It’s all right Moppet. A simple yes is the answer to all of them. My Tommy is gorgeous, a living doll and so dreamy. It’s funny dear but I never knew what you meant by dreamy before. He’s got lovely red hair and.”   Her mother’s strident voice interrupted her description, “None of us are interested in this common soldier that you’ve throne your life away over.”   Ann Foster ignore her mother’s words, “He’s got a powdering of freckles all of his beautiful body. He even has red hair, well I never knew men had hair there at all. Of course I never thought about that before. It’s curly and softer than any silk could ever bee. If Irish women are as good in bed as Irish men are, no wonder daddy has one for a mistress.”   “Your father doesn’t have a mistress. Why he’s a Foster and Fosters don’t do that sort of thing.   Alexander stubbed out his three quarter smoked cigar in a marble ash tray, “My word Annie, where did you ever get such a silly notion. A Mistress, my word, my word indeed.”   Annie smiled through beginning tears, “You don’t have to pretend with me daddy, I’ve know about Mrs., about Fiona Fitzgerald since I was twelve.   Foster eased himself off of the couch and started pacing back and forth, mumbling as he went. “My word, my word, since you were twelve,” he stopped in his tracks and turned to face his daughter. “Just how did you learn about my mild indiscretion?”   “Daddy darling all the heating vents are connected together. I get to hear every conversation in this house. I first started to listen so I would know where you hid my Christmas gifts. I was so angry at first daddy. I even thought I hated you for the longest time but now I understand why. Aren’t the Irish people the most loving and glorious people in the world. I just can’t wait to be close to his naked body again. It’s so delicious making love with him”   Abigail Foster roared, her face was as red as a beet, “I won’t have that kind of smutty talk in my house. Now take it and get out of here. Your allowance will be cut off and you won’t inherit one penny of my money.”   Bertie wandered over to the couch and poured a large tumbler full of brandy. He sat down and swallowed half of it in one gulp.   Annie smiled sweetly at her mother, “I’ll be gone as soon as I pack my suitcase and i don’t care about your filthy money. You can choke on every last red cent of it.”   Mr’s Foster glared into her daughter’s teary eyes, “You’ll not take one thing form the my house except the clothes on your back”   Ann returned the star with one just as cold, “It was daddies money that bout my clothes, so I’ll take what I want and send for the rest.” She turned her worried gaze to her father, “I can have them, can’t I daddy.”   “Of course my darling, Bertha will help you pack.”   “Thank you daddy, will you please come to my wedding and give me away.”   Foster’s no sooner got his mouth open to answer than his wife roared, “No one is going to your wedding, you filthy strumpet. It’s all you your fault Alexander, if you hadn’t been rutting with your Irish washer women for all these years, none of this would have happened.”   Alexander Foster looked his wife straight in the eye, “Perhaps Abigail, if you had a warm bone in your body I wouldn’t have had to go to Fiona for love and comfort.” He turned to look at his two daughters and winked. “Of course I’ll come to your wedding and give you a way. I can’t wait to meet your Tommy boy.” When he added, “He sounds so dreamy,” both girls broke in to a fit of giggles. “You won’t mind if I make a quick stop along the way.”   Two girlish voices chimed, “What for daddy?”   Foster smiled, “You don’t think I’d let my oldest daughter get married without a room full of flowers, do you? Now run along and get ready, I’ll go and pull the sedan around to the front door.”

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Music Box Dreamer

The teenager pursed her lips up into a pout and frowned, “I’m sorry Mr. Jones for being rude.”   Jones stopped his frantic pacing for a minute, “Apology accepted dear little girl.” He rubbed his weak hand through the wispy stubble on his pallid face, “Say little one, did Annie happen to call and say where she is?”   Bertha mumbled, “No,” and turned away so here mother wouldn’t see the lie in her green eyes. She wasn’t quite quick enough.   “Bertha,” the voice was cold and as hard as tempered steel. “Tell us where your sister is right now, or you’ll need a cushion to sit on for a week.”   Alexander Foster added his two cents but in a far gentler tone, “Be a good girl and tell us where Annie is please. Mother and b,” he stopped and winked at his youngest daughter. “Your mother and Robert are worried sick.”   A quick gamin grin flashed across her pretty face, “She called me last night and said she’d be staying with a good friend. She said she would be home late this morning and not to worry,”   Abigail Foster glared at her youngest daughter and yelled, “What friend?”   Bertha took two steps closer to the half open hallway door, “A friend, that’s all she told me.”   The lie lay heavy on her face and her big eyes.   Mr’s Foster pushed her bulky frame off of the couch and marched towards her daughter. She put a bit of warmth into her voice this time. “Please Bertha, tell me the truth.”   The girl backed up until she was in the doorway, “She said she met an Irish boy at the dance and that they were going to the jazz club.” She heaved a big sigh, took too deep breaths and got ready to bolt out of the room. “She said she was going to spend the night with him and that they were going to get married to day.”   Abigail froze in her tracks and her always red face turned pale as the blood drained from it.”   Bertie squeaked, “My word you certainly are good at making up fairy tales. You should be a writer when you grow up.”   Alexander Foster added an even louder, “My word, an Irishman. Mother it does seem that our Annie has finally kicked the traces over. I always knew the girl had spunk but I didn’t know she had this much.” He gave his youngest daughter a big wink, “Did she say what he looked like. He must be a handsome bugger for our Annie to fall for him.”   By this time Mrs. Foster had regain all of her composure, “Don’t encourage the child in her lies father. Now Bertha, I want the truth this time or I will warm your bottom. Bertie, I mean Robert go and fetch the big wooden spoon from the kitchen.”   The teenager started to sniff, “Honest mummy, cross my heart and hope to die but that’s what Annie told me.” She turned around when she heard a noise behind her. “Here’s Annie now. You can ask her yourself. She stepped into the parlour to make way for her sister to enter. “I’m sorry I told your secret Annie but mummy made me.”   Abigail Foster shouted, “Is it true, did you spend the night with an Irish tramp.”   “Yes I did mother dear and he’s not a tramp. He’s the most glorious, the most handsome man I have ever know.”   Mrs. Foster lowered her voice and put all of the anger and all of the frustration she felt in to her words. “Get out of my house you two bit street walking strumpet. I won’t have here for another minute. I won’t have the dirt from potato fields dragged all over my clean rooms. What were you thinking you whore. You’ve gone and ruined everything with Bertie. What are we going to tell his nice parents?”   When Annie replied there was no anger, no regret in her voice, “I only came back to get a few of my things for our honey. Though if my Tommy boy has his way all I’d really need is my birthday suite.”   By this time Bertha was dancing up and down. A big smile was plastered on her face, “Is your Tommy boy handsome Annie? Do you think he’ll like me? Can I come to your wedding? Can I be your flower girl, please, please?”

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Music Box Dreamer

The young soldier felt anger growing in his belly and when he spoke his words were sharp and held a little bit of his feelings. “Do you always laugh at people that do things for you.”   Girlish laughter rang out in the dark night. She mumbled, “Sorry,” the half smoked cigarette fell on to the porch floor. Its bright spark was ground under a small brown shoe.   O’Quinn frowned, “You don’t look sorry but I suppose I shouldn’t expect an apology form a child like you anyway.” Before Annie had a chance for a comeback he added. “I just met this child named Annie/ Who loves to play the Pianee/ Poor thing always frowns, When people tell here to sit down/ Because she’s blocking their view with her fanny.”   This was the last straw as far as Ann Foster was concerned. She shouted, “How rude,” turned on her heels and stomped away. She turned back before she reached the open door, “Did you ever go into an Irishman’s shanty and see your uncle dressed up like your aunty.”   The young soldier clenched both fists as an angry red stain washed across his face, he gritted his teeth, “I’ll have you know.” He paused until just the right words came to his mind. He growled, “I didn’t grow up in a shanty. If you must know I lived in a nice four room apartment when I was young. Of course hoity toity rich girls like yourself thinks all Irish are illiterate, unwashed and uncouth. I know all about your kind.”   Fire flashed out of two big sapphire eyes as she stormed back to where he was standing. “Just what do you think you know about girls like me, you, you big.” Annie didn’t want to swear, didn’t want to give into her rage but this ugly soldier was asking for it. “You big lunk head you.” she wanted to grab hold of his broad shoulders and shake the stuffing out of him.”   The two young people glared at each other for several minutes without speaking. Tommy broke the gaze first. He mumbled, “Sorry child if I up set you.”   A small clenched fist thudded hard into his left shoulder. His mouth dropped open and his grey eyes grew large. He reached out with both hands to grab and shake some respect into her.     Before his big paws settled onto soft, yielding flesh, laughter poured out of his open mouth. He laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes wetting the stubble of his day old beard as they rolled down his cheeks. He laughed so hard that he had to clutch onto the shaking girl to keep from falling.   It took him a while to regain his composure but when he did a big warm smile flashed across his face. “I’m sorry for being so rude. I’m usually not this way, not at all. It’s just, well never mind.”   To Annie he no longer looked homily. Instead he was the cutest young man she had ever seen in her life. The anger that had been piling up until it was almost a mountain, faded faster than the morning dew. Her heart thudded against her chest, against the soft, thin fabric of her dress. A smile that would light up the darkest night, a smile that would melt an ice berg turned two perfect rosebud lips upwards. “I’m sorry two about, well you did start it by saying I have a big fanny. Is my bottom really that big that it will block peoples view?”   Her directness, her smile and her intoxicating perfume carried on the breath of the wind completely fluster the young man. His tongue tied its self into a dozen knots. At least that’s what it seemed like, “Uu, I, I,I.” After a minute of stumbling and stuttering his answer he regained a bit of self-possession. “I never saw much of your bottom but from what I did see I think it is the loveliest in the whole world.”   She gazed long into his eyes searching for a hint of deceit, for a shadow that he was being rude once more. There was only truth and honesty within them. She got out a low sir before bursting out into a gale of giggles. She leaned against him and clutched his shoulder.   Without even realizing it Tommy put both arms around the slender, soft frame of the beautiful girl and held her close. It took a while for the giggles to fade away into the darkness but at last they did.   A muffled, “Please unhand me sir,” brought the soldier back to his senses.   He dropped his long arms back to his sides. A bit of red brightened up his face, his mumbled, “Sorry,” was heartfelt and honest. “I’m so sorry for being so rude. Can we please start over again and be friends. I don’t want to fight with a pretty girl one on of my last few nights in Canada.”   A soft, “I don’t want to fight either,” and another smile sent his heart racing once more.   She curtsied and stepped closer to him. One slender arm slid around his waist. A slender hand went up behind his short red hair and pulled his head down. Four lips opened a little. Two soft lips and two lips roughened by summer sun and winter winds touched. Two young bodies pressed tight against each other, clung to each other with all of their might.   A loud, shrill, “Ann Foster, where are you Ann Foster,”  floating out of  the half open window intruded into their moment of rapture.   Annie was the first to unlock lips. She caressed the back of his neck several time before removing her soft hand.   A heavy sigh escaped from Tommy as he dropped his arms back at his sides.   Ann was the first one to speak and there was a hint of panic in her seductive, bedroom voice. “Oh heavens it’s mother. Let’s go around the corner so she won’t see.”   Tommy started feeling angry again and his voice was loud when he spoke, “Are you ashamed of me because I’m Irish.”   “I could never be ashamed of you,” two large tear drops rolled out of the corner of her eyes and down her cheeks. “I love you. I love you with all my heart, with all my soul, with my very life.”   The young man forced his growing anger back where it belonged. “What is it then?”   Annie wiped the tears off of her chin, “It’s just that mother thinks anyone not in our social circle is beneath her dignity. I don’t feel that way at all, never have. I’m too happy now for an angry confrontation. It, it would just spoil everything.   The two new lovers made their way off of the step and around the corner of the building, the strains of the Vienna Waltz followed behind them.   Tommy’s white teeth flashed in the darkness, “May I have this dance Madam?”

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Music Box Dreamer

Tommy O’Quinn leaned his tall raw boned frame up against the wall of the Mason’s large hall and took a deep drag of his half finished cigarette. He tried to tune out the rather brassy music pouring out of the half open window. “What the hell I’m I doing here in this miserable city, God forsaken city. I wished I was back home on Uncle Pat’s farm. I could be sitting around having coffee and a couple of Aunt Fiona’s cookie. I could be listening to Gang Busters or Fibber McGee and Molly. Or I could be talking about our plans for the farm. You were a damn fool to enlist Tommy my lad, a real damn fool. ”   Tommy was so caught up in the turmoil of his thoughts that he didn’t hear the large, ornate door swing open. He didn’t hear the footsteps gliding across the old wooden porch.   The soft, feminine, “Do you have a light,” dragged his thoughts back from his wishful musings to the reality of the moment.   His steel grey eyes wandered over the slender form and angel like face. A few golden curls had escaped from their proper place and cascaded over one blue eye.   His homily face broke into a warm, beautiful smile, “Yes I do.” The young man hoped with all his might that the girl wouldn’t look down and see his legs shaking. Tommy knew that in all his short life he had never seen any girl as beautiful as this one. His heart pounded so hard inside his chest he was afraid she could hear it.   The look she gave him was cool and unflustered. Even though the light was dim Tommy could see the storm clouds gathering in her big beautiful eyes. “Will you light my cigarette then, please?”   Tommy swallowed hard twice and tried to calm his racing mind and heart before answering. When he had regained s little of his scattered composure he replied in the deepest voice he could muster. He began, “Where I come from,” knowing full well what he was going to say was the wrong thing. He didn’t care though, because all of his life snooty, rich, beautiful girls like this one had turned up their noses at him. “Where I come from folks usually introduce themselves before asking for something. But I guess rich city girls are used to being rude and getting their own way.”   Annie was taken back by the rudeness of this young, plain looking man. She was used to men bending over backwards just to get a smile from her. This bold speaking male intrigued her, piqued her curiosity as no other man ever had. She smiled sweetly, “I’m sorry. My name is Ann,” she hesitated for a moment. “My name is Annie, Annie Foster,” she stretched out her slender hand. It was greeted by a large calloused hand that felt like a bear paw to here.”   A smile split his homily face in two, “It’s real nice to meet you, Annie, Annie foster. Your parents sure must be strange to give you the same middle name as your first one.”   It’s just Annie you dolt,” here warm voice turned a December north wind cold. “You may call me Miss Foster and keep your blasted light.” She wanted to turn away from this tall, offensive, red haired man but she couldn’t. Something wild surged in her breast. Un-known feelings coursed through her body and shook it from golden crowned head to painted red toenails. She felt giddy, felt light headed. Annie could feel her nipples filling with blood and pushing out against the fabric of her red silk dress. She was sure if he glanced down he would see what was happening. “Oh my goodness, I hope he doesn’t look. I hope he can’t hear my heart beating.”   “Well just Annie,” Tommy still held the girl’s slender, warm hand in his large mitt. Foolish feelings ran through him and foolish, troubling thoughts coursed through is mind. He reached into the left front pocket of his uniform and pulled out an old, banged up lighter.   “You can let go of my hand now sir, I need it to hold my cigarette.   O’Quinn mumbled sorry and relaxed his grip. It took two swift flicks of his thumb before a tiny flame appeared. A big calloused hand was cupped to keep the gentle breeze from extinguishing the fire.”   Annie took a deep drag, held for a minute, exhaled and smiled, “Thanks kind sir but you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I don’t know yours.”   Tommy took two steps backwards and bowed, “Private first class Tommy O’Quinn at your service miss.”   The girl giggled.

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Music Box Dreamer

“There’ll be no buts from you young lady. Your mother’s right it’s our duty to give our brave soldiers a rousing send off.”   Since that war was lost Ann foster turned her eyes to her betrothed. Her voice was full of pleading, “Come with me Bertie so it won’t be a total bore.”   “I’d love to dear but your father and I have a lot of important business decisions to make. Besides entertaining soldiers is woman’s work. Now run along and be a good girl.”   Annie stomped across the parlour floor leaving footprints in the blue Persian carpet. She stopped two feet away from her mother, “Whatever happens will be on your head mother.”   “My word girl, what on earth do you mean?”   A devilish grin flashed across her beautiful face, “I just might fall in love with a soldier and run away with him. You wouldn’t mind would you Bertie?” She continued on without giving him time to answer, “Of course you wouldn’t mind. After all you’ve had a fling or two since our engagement. Don’t look so surprised, I knew about all of them right after they happened. I don’t mind, not too much anyway but it would be nice to even things up a bit.”   “Can I come mummy, please, please” Bertha’s grin was a twin to her sisters. “I want to be there when Annie kicks over the traces. You are going to kick over the traces tonight, aren’t you Annie. If you fall in love pick a handsome soldier. Maybe an Irish one, they have dreamy red hair.”   Abigail Foster snorted, “A Foster never kicks over the traces. After all we have a certain position in society to uphold and your sister’s name is Ann not Annie. Annie is for common people and we’re not common.”   “Can I come please, please mummy, I promise to be good if you let me.”   “Of course you can’t go. This party is for adults and besides it won’t be over until midnight or later.”   “When you get home Annie come and tell me all about the handsome soldier you fell in love with.”   Abigail roared, “Bertha,’ and gave her daughter a look that could sour cream, “That will be quite enough from you. Your sister is not going to fall in love with a soldier tonight or any night. She’s far too sensible for that and besides she’s a Foster. Now young lady, any more of this foolishness and you’ll go to bed without supper. Alexander, make certain she doesn’t listen to Gang Busters or any other of that trash they have on the radio these days.”

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