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 |    We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life. |
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“There are times when solitude is better than society, and silence is wiser than speech. We should be better Christians if we were more alone, waiting upon God, and gathering through meditation on His Word spiritual strength for labour in his service. We ought to muse upon the things of God, because we thus get the real nutriment out of them. . . . Why is it that some Christians, although they hear many sermons, make but slow advances in the divine life? Because they neglect their closets, and do not thoughtfully meditate on God's Word. They love the wheat, but they do not grind it; they would have the corn, but they will not go forth into the fields to gather it; the fruit hangs upon the tree, but they will not pluck it; the water flows at their feet, but they will not stoop to drink it. From such folly deliver us, O Lord. . . .” ― Charles Spurgeon “Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strengths.” ― C. H. Spurgeon “Hope itself is like a star- not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity.” ― Charles Haddon Spurgeon “If sinners be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our dead bodies. And if they perish, let them perish with our arms wrapped about their knees, imploring them to stay. If Hell must be filled, let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go unwarned and unprayed for.” ― Charles Spurgeon “A Bible that’s falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.” ― Charles Spurgeon “Visit many good books, but live in the Bible.” ― Charles Spurgeon “When your will is God's will, you will have your will.” ― Charles Spurgeon https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/2876959.Charles_Haddon_Spurgeon (Philippians 2:13, KJV)    |
world sopping dark'ning blanket covers thirsty plants drink deeply of the rain joy for the pitter-pat change wet clothes by Jay O’Toole on May 9th, 2024   |
glowing end of day day hath been as night doth come night will shortly last by Jay O’Toole on May 8th, 2024 |
Making crafts from day to day helps the mind relax. Much of life is "do and say," standing on the facts. Moments of repeating moves, tying knots with threads, bless emotions as it proves how to rest our heads. Making crafts we knit, crochet, practice practical gifts. Working jobs all through the day, look for time, that lifts. Making crafts, we make some more, joyful in the task. Wondrous time we must explore. Successful, then we bask. by Jay O’Toole on May 7th, 2024 |
With much to say and much to do, confusion blows its fog on a brain. When is the rushing finally through, that just a touch of rest we gain? The years of life make years so small, that walking feels like running fast. The few are left on which we call as rocket fuel fills ev'ry task. An infant's days are really slow, since ev'ry day near lifetime makes, but ev'ry year the more we go the days and years less time they take. From Santa Claus to Santa Claus so much of life is in between for toddlers, who love toys because all Christmas days, new wonders seen. But older years are spinning wheels. No seasons stop. They rush on by. The colors of the spring fast yield to humid green, then fall hues die. Each winter seems to slow the pace, but not for long. It's hot, again. The body feels not much of grace as hot and cold and hot they blend. The hoary hairs grasp oft for sleep, 'til sleep takes o'er the growing night. Eternal pace no more will keep the speed of Earth, our modern blight. by Jay O’Toole on May 6th, 2024 |
Being "Honest to God" is a worthy goal, but not one we can reach while living in this sinful soul so much His Word must teach. To live in honesty each day the chosen try to do, but trips in deeds or words we say makes the heart so sad all through. The lives we live as children set our life's trajectory. When others' needs are always met, it's hard to be set free. If "Honest to God"'s our always goal, then honesty to Self must be important to be whole or life is on a shelf. Be "Honest to God," and live His Truth in word, and thought, and deed. Imperfection from our youth, confess it, and we're freed. by Jay O’Toole on May 3rd, 2024 |
To drink a cup before I sleep, it's wise to know the kind. It's not like tea, that needs to steep, but decaf is the grind. To sip the blonded coffee cup brings joy with ev'ry taste. A friend with cake, the wondrous sup, this moment not erased. This blest alcove, the sweetest scene, to write as the cup is drained. The clock walks on. Each second seen hopes, that some new words be gained. To sip and rhyme in joyful bliss salutes the day now done. The poem finished, glad in this, the calendar box is won. by Jay O’Toole on May 2nd, 2024 |
| Moving on each given day is what we do with hopes we say. "Please comfort hearts" is what we pray, that future hopes are blest. Moving on, the days are past when Bruhni's life, the first and last are set in stone, a lasting cast. Now, mem'ries are our best. Moving on without that face. She blest all hearts with childlike grace, the missing piece, a lasting place, an emptiness to feel. Moving on with thoughts in tow, the things we did this one to know. The pup she was for years did grow, a friend so very real. by Jay O’Toole on May 1st, 2024 |
To live this life throughout our days 'tis best to love a lot. The time to live in all our ways makes loves be not forgot. We love each human, ev'ry pet throughout their lives on Earth. To live each day without regret, we love for all we're worth. To pat an arthritic doggy back shows love of measure full. To not do this would show some lack, and leave some thoughts to mull. To read a story to a child, and pray, that God would grace this loving soul, who's blest and smiled for years this hopeful place. To do the dishes oftentimes, to vacuum up the floor is a loving gift beyond all dimes, that can't buy love some more. The day has come to put the love of Bruhni in a box. So sad the heart for this sweet "dove," no more those precious talks. But still the days of joyful faces on my daughter, wife. Beaming gratitude mine graces for the days of life. Love requires the full gift of strength for the objects of our love. The happy dance, that lasts the length is broken when they move. The dog, who found her warm embrace between the master's legs has left great tears of salty taste to drink the bitterest dregs. The tiny one, who could not reach a top-shelf washer dish is a fully-grown adult to teach some newer child to wish. The youthful bride I met ago some forty years now hence still beams the heart-filled light I know, the days of warmest sense. The days are passing way too swift. My love must last beyond the time of money usage thrift by Love's effusive bond. 'Tis wise to love, that when it's o'er my days will be known by my selfless deeds and loving store. It stays when grief must fly. The loving days of family life are blest forevermore. The dearest daughter, and my wife are always "the top drawer." The days with Bruhni, fully done, the grief still fully raw, the love she lived was fully shown. On hope, I need to draw. It's wise to love with all our hearts. Yes, losses are quite hard. The love, that never knows its starts will never make the bard. -------------------------------------- Prompt: "APRIL Fools or Wise WHAT DO YOU PLAN TO DO? HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT IT? USE WORDS TO SHOW EMOTIONS AND ACTIONS.bold the words in your story-poem Poetry form: STORY POEM - MINIMUM OF 16 LINES MAX LINES 64." Lines: 64 Quatrains: 16 Words: 393 --------------------------------------- by Jay O’Toole on April 30th, 2024 |
pollen, heat, and breeze days now longer in the sun chilliness retreats by Jay O’Toole on April 29th, 2024 |
coat was beautiful nevermore to live with us remembered and loved by Jay O’Toole on April 26th, 2024 |
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