Judy's Hope

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Copyright © 2009 Patricia A. Moore
Judy's Hope is meant to encourage all those
who are going through hard times,
and to keep holding on to the Lord......


If I could take the pain and the hurt away
This Lord .. This I would do.
But I can’t change a thing, in their life today
So I’ll cry .. Lord, I’ll cry out to you.

All their hopes and dreams
Seem to go from good to bad
Is there no balm in Gilead.

And the sickness they go through
With no place to turn to
Is there no physician there.

CHORUS:
Yes, the Lord’s in Zion
He’s the balm of Gilead
He’s the greatest Physician
We’ve ever had.

So I’ll cry out to Him
And in faith I’ll believe
He’s the answer to prayer
For you and for me.

He’s the balm of Gilead.

CHORUS:
Yes, the Lord’s in Zion
He’s the balm of Gilead
He’s the greatest Physician
We’ve ever had.

So I’ll cry out to Him
And in faith I’ll believe
He’s the answer to prayer
For you and for me.

He’s the balm of Gilead.


Vocals: Judy L. Wilson,Patricia A Moore, Gerti M. Blackwell
Words and Melody: Patricia A. Moore
Music: Gerti M. Blackwell

The Voice Of An Angel

Voices of Angels..
Are meant to sing...
When hearing their melody..
Heavenly sounds ring...

Church bell in
The steeple high
Beauty in the tones
Swaying from the sky

Music that’s heard
With the heart
These glorious tunes
God did impart

Like my mom ..
Guitar in hand..
The picture before me..
An angel band..

Patty Ann
11-2-09

Patty Ann

Who am I…
That he would care
But just a plain country girl
With long brown hair

My eyes don’t sparkle
Ocean blue
Their homely brown
With a black tea hue

My words are simple
Not refined
Backwood hillbilly
This voice of mine

I don’t put on
Ruby red lips
Just denim jeans
Tight to the hips

An with these
Old boots of mine
I walk the woods
Among the mountain pine

My high society
Social event
La-Tee-Dah
Mending fence

As for my
Elaborate dine
I'll grab that picnic
Basket of mine

Chicken, biscuits
Don’t forget the cokes
Throw a blanket
Under the oak

Here you won’t find
That southern belle
Just little ole me
In a hick-er shell

I’ll be more then happy
To be your friend
This country gal,
Patty Ann

I’ll be more then happy
To be your friend
This country gal,
Patty Ann

Your Arms By Patricia A Moore

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Your Arms

Your arms that reach out and hold me tonight
Are the same arms that reached out on the cross
Your love am feeling right now
Is the same love you had when I was lost

In the years be been together
I’ve had my ups and downs
In the storms I did weather
In your arms that are around

Chorus

In your arms…In your arms
There I’ll abide
Beneath the shadow of thy wings
Your loving bride

Verse
You know every part of me
Every secret untold
All the pain and the heartache
From childhood to old

I am ragged and worn
Beauty cast me aside
Yet you hold me in your arms
As your adorned bride

Chorus

In your arms….In your arms
There I’ll abide
Beneath the shadow of thy wings
Your loving bride

Verse
Years have come and gone
Life is fading fast
Till forever in your arms
I will be at last..

Patricia A Moore
August 2009

My Mountain Wildflower By Patricia A Moore & Colin S Moffett

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I guild the Lily of the valley green
Dress the rose with beauty seen
I walk the mountains and the fields
Viewing the hedgerows and see what yields

From seed that was sprinkled from my word
To see who blooms for me the Lord
Whether fallow ground or rocky place
Thou shalt bloom there by my grace

I see you wildflower in the sun of day
Your beauty will add to my bouquet
Or wouldst of me might you ask
Why grow I here, its a difficult task

Why is it so that I am found
Among tall grass and weeds around
Yet of my nectar the humming birds take
Thou hast me here to hunger slake

Yes I have you on the mountain terrain
Or full of blossoms down a country lane
Swaying gently in the wind that blows
Where soft your fragrance lingering flows

For I have planted you where you be
Though the air of simplicity envelops thee
Humble and of glory taking no degree
Yet your petals are used of me

I need the rose and lily too
Dear mountain wildflower also you
To speak of me and show my glory
Every flower I plant tells my story

Then I’ll come some glorious day
To gather up my own bouquet
Roses, lilies help make up the bower
Along with you my Mountain Wildflower

Colin S Moffett & Patricia A Moore
September 7 2009