I Am Your Child

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Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
How wonderful thy are
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
The bright an morning star

Thou art my savior
The one that paid the price
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
The Way, The Truth, The Life

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
Thou art the shining light
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
Watching day and night

I am your child
I will follow thee
My light will shine
For all the world to see

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
How wonderful thy are
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
The bright an morning star


Thou art my savior
The one that paid the price
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
The Way, The Truth, The Life
The Way, The Truth, The Life

Lyrics -Patricia A Moore
June 24, 2010
Music -Joyce Close
Vocals- Joyce Close,
Edward L Salisbury ,Patricia A Moore

Sweet Wildflower by Colin Moffett

I climbed the mountainside
Clambered over rock and stone
Felt the peace of solitude
On its peak silently alone

Then I saw it blooming there
Though its leaves were torn, tattered
The wildflower of the mountain
With strong winds cruelly battered

I could see it struggled hard to live
Of its plight I took some pity
Mountain wildflower why bloom here
Come to my garden in the city

There you will live in calmer clime
Your life will be more at ease
No strong wind will harm your there
Your face kissed then by gentle breeze

I seemed to hear its voice reply
On its face a raindrop tear
I cannot go to a city garden
For my home is on the mountain here

God has planted me where He would
Here my abode the mountain high
If you took me from its slopes
Then alas my heart would die

Here I am nearer Heaven’s home
He has blessed with such a view to see
Of all the places I could have been
This was the home He had for me

Battered yes and bruised my leaves
Yet the sun shines on my face
Remove me not for not His will
That I should ever leave this place

I descended from the mountainside
Over me again its peak did tower
Pondering over the lesson I had learned
Taught to me by the sweet wildflower



Colin Moffett

Lambaste

Sleep was not to be, my dearest companion at night
I played the game, toss-n-turn, my bed I did fight
Why would it evade, does not it hear my call
Am I always active, not in a dormant state at all

Waiting for its arrival ,praying please make haste
But seldom will it come,leaveing me to feel lambaste
I’m a would-be sleeper, always wishing that I could
Communication with me and sleep,sadly misunderstood

I lay on my pillow, counting cute little sheep, O’ my
Remembering the time, I use to get some shut eye
What I think I’ll do now, is pull out my dear ole gun
Start shooting those sheep, that's constantly on the run

Would not that be nice, a leg of lamb or lamb chops
Then the sheep would think twice,next time, better stop!
Dancing in the air, performing their lovely theatrical show
Was delicious tasty mutton,over and over my head they go

Although we could get along together, plenty of fine
If they would quit running, through my poor weary mind
Whosoever came up,with the idea of counting sheep
Must of lost more then enough, Good night sleep!!!

Patricia A Moore
March 28 2010

Shades Of The Past

Pain acknowledged, in the deep woods of the heart
Told by dredged up phases, following life’s event
Hurt harbored inward, a destroyer causes destruction
Leaving its marked victim, totally emotionally spent

Captured in the spider web, overcome to weary struggle
Relinquishing a few rights, shedding tears of the eye
Entangled by threads woven, sounds of heart spoken
As in spring waters flowing, from the mountain cry

Tall trees cast shadows of murky darkness, ominous gloom
When a forlorn feeling attempts to engulf the feeble soul
Shades of the past welter forth, Till spirit lies drenched
Abysmal misery forming an immeasurable depth of hole

Trapped in a maze ,bewildered in the deepness of woods
Asking God to lift torment to some extent, a certain degree
Trudging the blazing trail of the all consuming fiery abyss
Left to bear, yet walking with God, the path from tree to tree

Reliance totally upon God, whom also beared pain of the woods
Thoughts of whys or the wherefores are hard to understand
Anguish of rejection, physical or mental agony, death of one loved
When dealing with heart matters, in the deep woods of man.

Patricia A Moore
March 15, 2010

Sea Cliffs

Pictures by Colin Moffett


Glory of dawn caresses, thy beautiful shores
Kissed with a smile, that beckons, far more
When surface ripples are escalated by winds
The greatest of life’s waves, come rolling in

Sea cliffs are high, riddled by salty sea spray
Driving forces battered, thy base day after day
Waves thrash and tumble along your outer banks
Given no mercy, reaching right, and left flanks

Roar of the breakers, are carried across winds
Flood tide of fears grasp, into the tyrant’s hands
Wilt thou vanish beneath the sculpturing waves
Under constant tattering, that brought forth caves

Whitecap seas pound, hollowing out depression
Calling on erosion, lending hand to regression
Carved by furies elements, breaking crest of sea
A unique rending, mosaic existence, forming thee

The descending Rock, a shielding to, the cliff face
Covering armor of God’s love, extending grace
Through renewed strength a wounded eagle soars
And once again glory caresses, thy beautiful shores

Patricia A Moore
February 14, 2010