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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/reviews/quirk
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8 Public Reviews Given
8 Total Reviews Given
Public Reviews
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Review of Willing to teach  
Review by Specter
Rated: E | (5.0)
Hi M from M,

I find your prayer meaniful and personal, coming from the heart. I think your willingness to share it with everyone serves a greater purpose that is yet to be revealed. You are something far more than the expectations of this world, even mine. Your appreciation for the simple things in life is bearing and holding the glory of God from within. I call it a tickle of the spirit, because it is filled with the light of gladness and love. And out of our bowels of compassion shines into our delight of a profound understanding.

Turn yet to Christ for answers to gain wisdom of the ages, remaining always humble and thankful. He is the way, the light, and the life. Now believe it! I did... God does teach us but few listen to His wisdom. It's too noisy.

slick

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Review of Who was Jesus?  
Review by Specter
Rated: E | (4.5)
People are always divided against themselves by their natural realism. The Poll Totals account for this discrepancy on their behalf. The very reality of such a question is found in the Bible. Who was Jesus? Let's look:

1 John; Chapter 5:20

And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know him that is true, and we are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life.

As far as I am concerned, God has answered your question.

slick
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Review of Ode To Melanie  
Review by Specter
Rated: 18+ | (5.0)
Boy, Oh Boy! Man Oh Man!
W.D. must stand for Wild-Dilly . . .
Going for the gross-out, you got Stephen King beat. I mean to tell you this story tears up the "Gruesome Twosome into a faint fantasy. The plot line runs through the middle of passion's poem and convolving its lofty eloquence into the livid and ghastly horror, double-dipped into an infectious darkness of no-return.

W.D., I'm getting worried about you. I know there are times I hang myself out to dry. It may be the reason I got plastered skin. Before you bang your head against the wall, call me first. And we both can howl at the moon. It must be you left the poor poem gurgling--but fancy that, I'm still laughing . . .

slick
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