tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63116471613273209562024-03-12T22:07:11.238-05:00Wildflower's Heart of GoldPatricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-10675300082535900162011-01-15T12:48:00.002-06:002011-01-15T12:48:27.059-06:00In The Lord Hands<div> <object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" width="210" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle">
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</div><div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-55787222388751968302010-12-03T14:20:00.002-06:002010-12-03T14:23:46.249-06:00A Little Girls Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TPlQgU58l3I/AAAAAAAAA-I/cfa8ktEUcns/s1600/370696-960x600-Fotomix-77C.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TPlQgU58l3I/AAAAAAAAA-I/cfa8ktEUcns/s320/370696-960x600-Fotomix-77C.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Sugar cotton, taste of candy<br />
Pops of lolly, rainbow sun<br />
Pink creamed ice, strawberry<br />
Little girls life, just begun<br />
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Polka dot, heart of flowers<br />
White petticoat, angel wings<br />
Dancing around in penny loafers<br />
To the melody, song birds sing<br />
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Up a daisy, down a daisy<br />
To the jump of a rope<br />
With a net chasing butterflies<br />
Spring brings new hope<br />
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Kneeling by the bedside<br />
Praying her soul to keep<br />
With a teddy bear in arms<br />
She drifts off to sleep<br />
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Dreaming of a world<br />
Full of love and laughter<br />
A fairytale prince<br />
In a happy ever after<br />
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A little girls life<br />
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Patricia A Moore<br />
December 3,2010<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-18116037282510923452010-11-20T21:15:00.000-06:002010-11-20T21:15:53.123-06:00Dark Road<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TOiOQ6GLomI/AAAAAAAAA9I/oZChYmR5vc4/s1600/Nightpics003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TOiOQ6GLomI/AAAAAAAAA9I/oZChYmR5vc4/s1600/Nightpics003.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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How do I get to where I’m going<br />
When I’m lost from where I came<br />
Following the directions on the map<br />
There’s only one, that I could blame<br />
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Traveling miles of lonely highway<br />
Destined, still searching for a sign<br />
Circumstance going terribly wrong<br />
In bewilderment I’ve went half blind <br />
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Looking intensely from place to place <br />
An empty promise far as the eye did see <br />
Nothing appeared in my shadowed sight<br />
Except, the dark road of emotional debris<br />
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Quick was gloom to penetrate around<br />
In darkness, feeling my own despair<br />
Caught by hours leading to midnight<br />
Isolated, out in the middle of nowhere.<br />
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Patricia A Moore<br />
November 20,2010<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-74567834886481746102010-11-10T01:06:00.002-06:002010-11-10T01:12:17.178-06:00Phoenix<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TNpD9xIjk_I/AAAAAAAAA54/HEE6uhU4nxM/s1600/ashes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" px="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TNpD9xIjk_I/AAAAAAAAA54/HEE6uhU4nxM/s320/ashes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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A foretoken given by day of Light<br />
Descending through dark of night<br />
Gray of ash upon the crest seen<br />
Raked over coals down between.<br />
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In the shadows, reasoning of choice<br />
Still and silent, as one with no voice<br />
Fire was blazing with indignation<br />
Roaring with the cry of damnation.<br />
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Understanding has gone amiss<br />
Devoured in this burning abyss<br />
Judgement echoes off the mount<br />
For all to see, I stand in account.<br />
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Friendship once stood by my side<br />
Fled with the wind, to run and hide<br />
Partaking not, in decisions made<br />
Yet it was not I, who felt betrayed.<br />
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Burned out by the fan of flames<br />
All that is left, very little remains<br />
Like a Phoenix, state of ruin I’m in<br />
From ashes, resurrection will begin.<br />
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Patricia A. Moore<br />
August 24, 2010<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-78103910598439228232010-08-18T02:12:00.003-05:002010-11-09T02:15:01.080-06:00Wildflowers Heart Of Gold<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TGuIGsmip5I/AAAAAAAAA3k/bXLIrB7ocxU/s1600/116650216791.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TGuIGsmip5I/AAAAAAAAA3k/bXLIrB7ocxU/s320/116650216791.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Customs of community, social behavior, unmet<br />
Uncultivated flower, civilized, not as yet<br />
There truth be told, she's merely a weed<br />
Insidiously she’ll produce treacherous seed<br />
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The rose, the lily, ones of upper class, high prestige<br />
Take preference over her and therefore precede<br />
Forbidden to attend such a formal garden estate<br />
In the wild you can feast upon her golden plate<br />
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Comely to some, but outcast, in the eyes of elite<br />
Due to their exalted standards she does not meet<br />
Gathering her bedding amongst the lower class<br />
Happiness, contentment exceeds, expectations surpass<br />
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Her position carries not reign upon pedestals high<br />
Nor does she seek exaltation in the platinum sky<br />
Illuminations of life, destiny cries as a silvery lake<br />
A silhouette, shadow brought forth by light to make<br />
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Beauty rides down the path on chariots of love<br />
Grain of sand, a pearl forms, grayish white sphere of<br />
Whispers in the cross winds of riches untold<br />
Found lying beneath, in Wildflower's Heart Of Gold<br />
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Patricia A Moore<br />
July 24 2010<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-35420364278434872672010-03-30T04:26:00.004-05:002010-11-09T02:13:36.448-06:00Lambaste<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TNkBxFK5ctI/AAAAAAAAA5k/TOTYzvom5m4/s1600/Counting_Sheep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/TNkBxFK5ctI/AAAAAAAAA5k/TOTYzvom5m4/s1600/Counting_Sheep.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Sleep was not to be, my dearest companion at night<br />
I played the game, toss-n-turn, my bed I did fight<br />
Why would it evade, does not it hear my call<br />
Am I always active, not in a dormant state at all<br />
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Waiting for its arrival ,praying please make haste<br />
But seldom will it come,leaveing me to feel lambaste <br />
I’m a would-be sleeper, always wishing that I could<br />
Communication with me and sleep,sadly misunderstood <br />
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I lay on my pillow, counting cute little sheep, O’ my <br />
Remembering the time, I use to get some shut eye<br />
What I think I’ll do now, is pull out my dear ole gun<br />
Start shooting those sheep, that's constantly on the run<br />
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Would not that be nice, a leg of lamb or lamb chops<br />
Then the sheep would think twice,next time, better stop!<br />
Dancing in the air, performing their lovely theatrical show<br />
Was delicious tasty mutton,over and over my head they go <br />
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Although we could get along together, plenty of fine<br />
If they would quit running, through my poor weary mind<br />
Whosoever came up,with the idea of counting sheep<br />
Must of lost more then enough, Good night sleep!!!<br />
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Patricia A Moore<br />
March 28 2010<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-86645838936554206112010-03-15T19:00:00.002-05:002010-03-15T19:04:04.160-05:00Shades Of The Past<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S57Kjcu2ioI/AAAAAAAAAtk/mHPQ78gvfdk/s1600-h/the-crying-boy.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S57Kjcu2ioI/AAAAAAAAAtk/mHPQ78gvfdk/s320/the-crying-boy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449015309521816194" /></a><br /><br />Pain acknowledged, in the deep woods of the heart <br />Told by dredged up phases, following life’s event <br />Hurt harbored inward, a destroyer causes destruction<br />Leaving its marked victim, totally emotionally spent<br /><br />Captured in the spider web, overcome to weary struggle<br />Relinquishing a few rights, shedding tears of the eye<br />Entangled by threads woven, sounds of heart spoken<br />As in spring waters flowing, from the mountain cry<br /><br />Tall trees cast shadows of murky darkness, ominous gloom<br />When a forlorn feeling attempts to engulf the feeble soul <br />Shades of the past welter forth, Till spirit lies drenched<br />Abysmal misery forming an immeasurable depth of hole <br /> <br />Trapped in a maze ,bewildered in the deepness of woods <br />Asking God to lift torment to some extent, a certain degree<br />Trudging the blazing trail of the all consuming fiery abyss<br />Left to bear, yet walking with God, the path from tree to tree<br /><br />Reliance totally upon God, whom also beared pain of the woods<br />Thoughts of whys or the wherefores are hard to understand<br />Anguish of rejection, physical or mental agony, death of one loved <br />When dealing with heart matters, in the deep woods of man.<br /><br />Patricia A Moore<br />March 15, 2010<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-78892462465318313022010-02-14T14:29:00.005-06:002010-02-14T14:35:20.867-06:00Sea Cliffs<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S3hdkh7v14I/AAAAAAAAAsI/cmt1Y2ibMWQ/s1600-h/sea+cliffs.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S3hdkh7v14I/AAAAAAAAAsI/cmt1Y2ibMWQ/s320/sea+cliffs.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438199432215517058" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S3hdbmWoxLI/AAAAAAAAAsA/3NcT3ydmnVo/s1600-h/Landscape+970.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S3hdbmWoxLI/AAAAAAAAAsA/3NcT3ydmnVo/s320/Landscape+970.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438199278783218866" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S3hdSYRDV2I/AAAAAAAAAr4/ROid9sPXuYs/s1600-h/Landscape+796.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S3hdSYRDV2I/AAAAAAAAAr4/ROid9sPXuYs/s320/Landscape+796.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438199120382875490" /></a><br />Pictures by Colin Moffett<br /><br /><br />Glory of dawn caresses, thy beautiful shores<br />Kissed with a smile, that beckons, far more<br />When surface ripples are escalated by winds<br />The greatest of life’s waves, come rolling in<br /><br />Sea cliffs are high, riddled by salty sea spray <br />Driving forces battered, thy base day after day<br />Waves thrash and tumble along your outer banks<br />Given no mercy, reaching right, and left flanks <br /><br />Roar of the breakers, are carried across winds<br />Flood tide of fears grasp, into the tyrant’s hands <br />Wilt thou vanish beneath the sculpturing waves<br />Under constant tattering, that brought forth caves<br /><br />Whitecap seas pound, hollowing out depression <br />Calling on erosion, lending hand to regression<br />Carved by furies elements, breaking crest of sea<br />A unique rending, mosaic existence, forming thee<br /><br />The descending Rock, a shielding to, the cliff face<br />Covering armor of God’s love, extending grace<br />Through renewed strength a wounded eagle soars<br />And once again glory caresses, thy beautiful shores<br /><br />Patricia A Moore <br />February 14, 2010<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-30590172605141302662010-02-04T10:03:00.003-06:002010-02-04T10:29:12.133-06:00Bloom Wildflower BloomThe harshness of winter cries out<br />Mountains blanketed, by snow about<br />Underneath in solitude, I’m found<br />Awaiting time to become unbound <br /><br />Seasoned with shortness of day<br />In fading lights,momentary stay<br />The longest of night to attend<br />With bitter coldness creeping in <br /><br />But once again the sun will shine<br />On these dormant limbs of mine <br />And the weariness of brown now seen<br />Will break forth into living green<br /> <br />Increase of growth from God’s degree<br />Maturing process, emotional intensity <br />Early stages set, performance arrives<br />Flourishing again,it’s essence revived <br /><br />Secrets hidden, that lay concealed <br />Unfolding of, the petals revealed <br />Drink from spring, amount consumed<br />In Thou, mountain wildflower bloom<br /><br />Patricia A Moore<br />February 4 ,2010<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-37313447964957656742010-01-21T21:28:00.003-06:002010-01-21T22:02:16.976-06:00Reaping Laughter<div><br /> <object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" width="210" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle"><br /> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /><br /> <param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Reaping%20Laughter.mp3&autoStart=no" /><br /> <param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><br /> <embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Reaping%20Laughter.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed><br /> </object><br /> <br /><a style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 41px; color: #2DA274; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: none;" href="http://www.podbean.com">Powered by Podbean.com</a><br /> </div><br /><br />Hi y’all…..<br />This ole country girl’s stuck shoveling muck<br />To not do this chore there’s no suck luck<br />But that’s ok one shovel at a time<br />Scoop by scoop till I feel like am dieing <br /><br />And don’t you sit there with that there smirk<br />What goes around comes around in this here dirt<br />So in that, my garden will be, beautiful and green<br />When this here dirt, does it’s thing<br /><br />Then you’ll hear those spouts shout<br />Move aside am coming out!<br />Now go ahead laugh all you want<br />Laughter’s a good thing, but not, for those that don’t<br /><br />Y’all jus’ sit there if you will<br />And watch me work ,if that’s your thrill-<br />But when those fruit come burstin’ out<br />Rest assured, will without a doubt<br /><br />That I’ll be restin’ in the shade<br />Nibbin’ fruit, that God made<br />And don’t get angry, don’t get mad<br />When I’ll be laughin’ when your sad<br /><br />I won’t hear your petty pout,<br />When I have mine, you’ll go without<br />So grab your shovel ,Grab your hoe<br />For what you reap you’ll surely sow…..<br /><br />So grab your shovel ,Grab your hoe<br />For what you reap you’ll surely sow….<br />Surely sow..surely sow…<br /><br />Patricia A Moore.. Louis Gander<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-12792725564192931752010-01-21T14:32:00.002-06:002010-01-21T14:43:59.511-06:00Patty Ann<div><br /> <object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" width="210" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle"><br /> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /><br /> <param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Patty%20Ann%20DONE.mp3&autoStart=no" /><br /> <param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><br /> <embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Patty%20Ann%20DONE.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed><br /> </object><br /> <br /><a style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 41px; color: #2DA274; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: none;" href="http://www.podbean.com">Powered by Podbean.com</a><br /> </div><br /><br />Who am I…<br />That he would care<br />But just a plain country girl<br />With long brown hair<br /><br />My eyes don’t sparkle<br />Ocean blue<br />Their homely brown<br />With a black tea hue<br /><br />My words are simple<br />Not refined<br />Backwood hillbilly<br />This voice of mine<br /><br />I don’t put on<br />Ruby red lips<br />Just denim jeans<br />Tight to the hips<br /><br />An with these<br />Old boots of mine<br />I walk the woods<br />Among the mountain pine<br /><br />My high society<br />Social event<br />La-Tee-Dah<br />Mending fence<br /><br />As for my<br />Elaborate dine<br />I'll grab that picnic<br />Basket of mine<br /><br />Chicken, biscuits<br />Don’t forget the cokes<br />Throw a blanket<br />Under the oak<br /><br />Here you won’t find<br />That southern belle<br />Just little ole me<br />In a hick-er shell<br /><br />I’ll be more then happy<br />To be your friend<br />This country gal,<br />Patty Ann<br /><br />I’ll be more then happy<br />To be your friend<br />This country gal,<br />Patty Ann <br /><br />Patricia A Moore<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-56333432477252705062010-01-19T05:56:00.001-06:002010-01-20T18:18:58.990-06:00WINKSWhen the day breaks, it’s time for me to get up<br />I drag myself out of bed for that coffee in a cup<br />I think upon all the work and things I need to do<br />The thought came, my winks were only a few<br /><br />O well, a few winks is what I manage to run on<br />The days of having a full tank is way long gone<br />Seems in these times we get by with less and less<br />But yet our economical state, is in a far worse mess<br /><br />There’s always someone telling us what to do<br />And then another saying I don’t agree with you<br />Who’s fault, does not matter one way are the other<br />The evidence states , we're all in trouble brother<br /><br />Answer to all this, God is the only one that knows<br />But do you ask Him, which way you should go <br />No! you sit up there in your white ivory towers<br />Passing hair brain schemes in the midnight hours<br /><br />Do you remember, united we stand divided we fall<br />With this nonsense and bickering amongst you all<br />Or is that a phrase long forgotten from the past<br />Like In God We Trust, for the pits of hell, is cast<br /><br />The world watching America become a laughing stock<br />When out of your mouth comes phony baloney poppy cock<br />Those right wings and left wings flying around up there<br />Leave impressions of angels in Washington square<br /><br />And to think a few winks is what I manage to run on<br />The days of having a full tank is way long gone<br />America, turn back to God, your standing at the brink<br />You've had way too many ,too many WINKS…<br /><br /> Patricia A Moore<br /> January 18,2010<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-35148351246323383382010-01-17T14:45:00.002-06:002010-01-17T14:50:34.132-06:00There Laid A Branch<div><br /> <object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" width="210" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle"><br /> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /><br /> <param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/There%20Laid%20A%20Branch%20Judy%20and%20Gerti%20and%20Patty.mp3&autoStart=no" /><br /> <param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><br /> <embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/There%20Laid%20A%20Branch%20Judy%20and%20Gerti%20and%20Patty.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed><br /> </object><br /> <br /><a style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 41px; color: #2DA274; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: none;" href="http://www.podbean.com">Powered by Podbean.com</a><br /> </div><br /><br />Upon my window<br />A dove did land<br />And there laid a branch<br />In the palm of my hand.<br /><br />I carried that branch<br />I carry it today<br />Reaching out in His love<br />Is the only way.<br /><br />I’ll praise Him, I’ll praise Him today<br />El Shaddai<br />Yahweh<br /><br />Although my heart was broken<br />An olive branch was there<br />I heard the word spoken<br />Forgiveness I’m to share.<br /><br />I saw the storm was over<br />I could see the light<br />His love surrounded me<br />Everything felt right.<br /><br />I’ll praise Him, I’ll praise Him today<br />El Shaddai<br />Yahweh<br /><br />Upon my window<br />A dove did land<br />And there laid a branch<br />In the palm of my hand.<br /><br />I carried that branch<br />I carry it today<br />Reaching out in His love<br />Is the only way.<br /><br />I’ll praise Him, I’ll praise Him today<br />El Shaddai<br />Yahweh<br />O’ I’ll praise Him, I’ll praise Him today<br />El Shaddai<br />Yahweh<br />Yes I’ll praise Him, I’ll praise Him today<br />El Shaddai<br />Yahweh<br /><br />Upon my window<br />A dove did land<br />And there laid a branch<br />In the palm of my hand.<br /><br /><br /><br />© 2009 Patricia A. Moore<br />ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br /><br />Music and Melody: Gerti M. Blackwell<br />Vocals: Patricia A. Moore, Gerti M. Blackwell, Judy L. Wilson<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-7052756373988927172010-01-15T07:53:00.001-06:002010-01-15T07:58:50.938-06:00Reigning Son Shine<div><br /> <object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" width="210" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle"><br /> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /><br /> <param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Reigning%20Son%20Shine.mp3&autoStart=no" /><br /> <param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><br /> <embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Reigning%20Son%20Shine.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed><br /> </object><br /> <br /><a style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 41px; color: #2DA274; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: none;" href="http://www.podbean.com">Powered by Podbean.com</a><br /> </div><br /><br />CHORUS:<br />Heal me, O’Lord, and I shall be healed<br />Save me, and I shall be saved<br />For Thou art my praise<br />May the reigning Son<br />Shine from my heart<br />The fountain of living waters<br />You did impart.<br /><br />VERSE:<br />Search my heart<br />Try my reins<br />May the fruit I bear<br />Not be found in vein.<br /><br />CHORUS:<br />Heal me, O’Lord, and I shall be healed<br />Save me, and I shall be saved<br />For Thou art my praise<br />May the reigning Son<br />Shine from my heart<br />The fountain of living waters<br />You did impart.<br /><br />VERSE:<br />Lord when they ask<br />Where is Thy Word<br />Let it come forth<br />From my heart to be heard.<br /><br />CHORUS:<br />Heal me, O’Lord, and I shall be healed<br />Save me, and I shall be saved<br />For Thou art my praise<br />May the reigning Son<br />Shine from my heart<br />The fountain of living waters<br />You did impart.<br /><br />VERSE:<br />As a tree .. planted by the river<br />So be my heart<br />To You forever.<br /><br />CHORUS:<br />Heal me, O’Lord, and I shall be healed<br />Save me, and I shall be saved<br />For Thou art my praise<br />May the reigning Son<br />Shine from my heart<br />The fountain of living waters<br />You did impart.<br /><br /><br />FINAL:<br />May the reigning Son<br />Shine from my heart<br />The fountain of living waters<br />You did impart.<br /><br />2009 Patricia A. Moore<br /><br />Lyrics by: Patricia A. Moore<br />Music by: Gerti M. Blackwell<br />Sung by: Patricia A. Moore, Gerti M. Blackwell and Judy L. Wilson<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-14038602740316367072010-01-03T10:16:00.004-06:002010-01-03T13:06:09.797-06:00Sweet Angel<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S0Dph8LwP-I/AAAAAAAAArA/eOPawlrrJlQ/s1600-h/Picture_64.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422590720654458850" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/S0Dph8LwP-I/AAAAAAAAArA/eOPawlrrJlQ/s320/Picture_64.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"> Eddie ( Tater ) Salsbury</span><br /><br />The Lord sent an angel,one special as can be<br />The Lord sent an angel,reaching out unto me<br />Filling my weary days and long lonely nights<br />Caring for this angel was generosity's delight<br /><br />A touch of innocence,long forgotten by the world<br />Prominence of no importance,violently hurled<br />A heart professing purity,sounding truth thereof<br />The Lord sent a sweet angel,special,for me to love<br /><br />Animosity gains no footage on this precious ground<br />Only a poetic journey of mystery,hereto is found<br />Corruption takes not place within the mind of thee<br />My sweet angel,my sweet angel,the Lord sent to me<br /><br />Cherished moments brought forth by Unconditional love<br />Instantly beckon's us,to grasp the significance,of<br />As the butterfly is taken captive,by setting of net<br />So be that beautiful moment when serenity is met<br /><br />One of life’s greatest treasures,heavenly bestowed<br />A fortress of God’s beauty,he gave privilege to hold<br />Although of,the essence of time,there is no guarantee<br />I’ll love that sweet angel,that sweet angel,sent to me.<br /><br />Patricia A Moore<br />December 28 2009<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-64407102033306149892009-12-18T09:04:00.001-06:002009-12-18T09:06:16.665-06:00Star HighOn my Christmas tree the star high<br />Glowed blissfully drawing me nigh,<br />The tree not adorned with silver or gold <br />But light that gleamed on things of old<br /> <br />From there I went to a place in time<br />Where out of the east, His star did shine<br />Through the darkness , while on their quest<br />Wise men sought Him, they were blessed<br /><br />They ask whereof our sovereign King<br />Destiny cries out, glory of salvation sings<br />Lo, the star, was before them, light of love<br />Guidance gracefully flowing from above<br /><br /> Entering the dwelling of the young child<br /> Worship took ground ,treasures compiled<br /> From the dream my thoughts immerge nigh<br />Back to the Christmas tree on the STAR HIGH!<br /><br />Patricia A Moore<br />December 18 2009<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-11109601458677448062009-12-08T13:59:00.003-06:002009-12-08T14:06:37.801-06:00Strokes Of LoveWhen strokes of love are put upon a page,<br />It speaks the heart of the one portrayed. <br />With every brush stroke you tell a story,<br />Giving God Blessing, Honor and Glory.<br /><br />Capturing the essence of His nature foretold,<br />In the harmonizing colors that start to unfold.<br />Movement of paint, gliding across the canvas time, <br />Creates a beautiful picture, heavenly designed. <br /><br />Inspiration can come from most anywhere..<br />A child in a sandbox, or a town's old time square.<br />Drive in the country, a picnic at the lake..<br />Family gathering around for a picture to take.<br /><br />Or a walk along the beach at night..<br />Full moon glistening off the water just right.<br />The soft breeze blowing through your hair..<br />Just God and you, in the night air.<br /><br />On the palette of life, arranged and blended, <br />From Heaven, the pigment of color descended.<br />Paint strokes from God, dry brush or shading..<br />The beauty brought forth, always cascading.<br /><br />When strokes of love are put upon a page,<br />It speaks the heart of the one portrayed. <br />The last and final painting to take place,<br />Is painted on the easel of God’s Grace.<br /><br />Patricia A. Moore<br />12-8-2009<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-48241443606362205592009-11-07T23:23:00.006-06:002009-11-08T09:37:20.136-06:00Judy's Hope<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/SvZewpiPycI/AAAAAAAAAo8/17UzSJ0UVeo/s1600-h/ME_AND_THE_FALLS.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 151px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V74bQRMWWzo/SvZewpiPycI/AAAAAAAAAo8/17UzSJ0UVeo/s200/ME_AND_THE_FALLS.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401608992953715138" /></a><br /><div><br /> <object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" width="210" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle"><br /> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /><br /> <param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Judy%27s%20Hope.mp3&autoStart=no" /><br /> <param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><br /> <embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Judy%27s%20Hope.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed><br /> </object><br /> <br /><a style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 41px; color: #2DA274; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: none;" href="http://www.podbean.com">Powered by Podbean.com</a><br /> </div><br /><br /> Copyright © 2009 Patricia A. Moore<br />Judy's Hope is meant to encourage all those <br />who are going through hard times,<br />and to keep holding on to the Lord......<br /><br /><br />If I could take the pain and the hurt away<br />This Lord .. This I would do.<br />But I can’t change a thing, in their life today<br />So I’ll cry .. Lord, I’ll cry out to you.<br /><br />All their hopes and dreams<br />Seem to go from good to bad<br />Is there no balm in Gilead.<br /><br />And the sickness they go through<br />With no place to turn to<br />Is there no physician there.<br /><br />CHORUS:<br />Yes, the Lord’s in Zion<br />He’s the balm of Gilead<br />He’s the greatest Physician<br />We’ve ever had.<br /><br />So I’ll cry out to Him<br />And in faith I’ll believe<br />He’s the answer to prayer<br />For you and for me.<br /><br />He’s the balm of Gilead.<br /><br />CHORUS:<br />Yes, the Lord’s in Zion<br />He’s the balm of Gilead<br />He’s the greatest Physician<br />We’ve ever had.<br /><br />So I’ll cry out to Him<br />And in faith I’ll believe<br />He’s the answer to prayer<br />For you and for me.<br /><br />He’s the balm of Gilead.<br /><br /><br />Vocals: Judy L. Wilson,Patricia A Moore, Gerti M. Blackwell<br />Words and Melody: Patricia A. Moore<br />Music: Gerti M. Blackwell<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-16683274397591036872009-11-03T02:16:00.002-06:002009-11-03T02:25:12.243-06:00The Voice Of An AngelVoices of Angels..<br />Are meant to sing... <br />When hearing their melody..<br />Heavenly sounds ring...<br /><br />Church bell in<br />The steeple high<br />Beauty in the tones<br />Swaying from the sky<br /><br />Music that’s heard<br />With the heart<br />These glorious tunes<br />God did impart<br /><br />Like my mom .. <br />Guitar in hand..<br />The picture before me..<br />An angel band..<br /><br /> Patty Ann<br /> 11-2-09<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-39216513916646791842009-10-28T08:22:00.017-05:002009-11-15T11:57:17.940-06:00Patty AnnWho am I…<br />That he would care<br />But just a plain country girl<br />With long brown hair<br /><br />My eyes don’t sparkle<br />Ocean blue<br />Their homely brown<br />With a black tea hue<br /><br />My words are simple<br />Not refined<br />Backwood hillbilly<br />This voice of mine<br /><br />I don’t put on<br />Ruby red lips<br />Just denim jeans<br />Tight to the hips<br /><br />An with these<br />Old boots of mine<br />I walk the woods<br />Among the mountain pine<br /><br />My high society<br />Social event<br />La-Tee-Dah<br />Mending fence<br /><br />As for my<br />Elaborate dine<br />I'll grab that picnic<br />Basket of mine<br /><br />Chicken, biscuits<br />Don’t forget the cokes<br />Throw a blanket<br />Under the oak<br /><br />Here you won’t find<br />That southern belle<br />Just little ole me<br />In a hick-er shell<br /><br />I’ll be more then happy<br />To be your friend<br />This country gal,<br />Patty Ann<br /><br />I’ll be more then happy<br />To be your friend<br />This country gal,<br />Patty Ann<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-12954109110140358502009-10-21T21:23:00.001-05:002009-10-21T21:25:53.492-05:00Your Arms By Patricia A Moore<div><br /> <object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" width="210" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle"><br /> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /><br /> <param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Your%20Arms.mp3&autoStart=no" /><br /> <param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><br /> <embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Your%20Arms.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed><br /> </object><br /> <br /><a style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 41px; color: #2DA274; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: none;" href="http://www.podbean.com">Powered by Podbean.com</a><br /> </div><br /><br />Your Arms<br /><br /> Your arms that reach out and hold me tonight<br />Are the same arms that reached out on the cross<br />Your love am feeling right now<br />Is the same love you had when I was lost<br /><br />In the years be been together<br />I’ve had my ups and downs<br />In the storms I did weather<br />In your arms that are around<br /><br />Chorus<br /><br />In your arms…In your arms<br />There I’ll abide<br />Beneath the shadow of thy wings<br />Your loving bride<br /><br />Verse<br />You know every part of me<br />Every secret untold<br />All the pain and the heartache<br />From childhood to old<br /><br />I am ragged and worn<br />Beauty cast me aside<br />Yet you hold me in your arms<br />As your adorned bride<br /><br />Chorus<br /><br />In your arms….In your arms<br />There I’ll abide<br />Beneath the shadow of thy wings<br />Your loving bride<br /><br />Verse<br />Years have come and gone<br />Life is fading fast<br />Till forever in your arms<br />I will be at last..<br /><br /> Patricia A Moore<br /> August 2009<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-75130421807458393342009-10-05T23:09:00.005-05:002009-10-05T23:50:16.164-05:00My Mountain Wildflower By Patricia A Moore & Colin S Moffett<div><br /> <object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" width="210" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle"><br /> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /><br /> <param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/mountain_wildflower_Gerti_and_Judy_Pat.mp3&autoStart=no" /><br /> <param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><br /> <embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/mountain_wildflower_Gerti_and_Judy_Pat.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed><br /> </object><br /> <br /><a style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 41px; color: #2DA274; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: none;" href="http://www.podbean.com">Powered by Podbean.com</a><br /> </div><br /><br />I guild the Lily of the valley green<br />Dress the rose with beauty seen<br />I walk the mountains and the fields<br />Viewing the hedgerows and see what yields<br /><br />From seed that was sprinkled from my word<br />To see who blooms for me the Lord<br />Whether fallow ground or rocky place<br />Thou shalt bloom there by my grace<br /><br />I see you wildflower in the sun of day<br />Your beauty will add to my bouquet<br />Or wouldst of me might you ask<br />Why grow I here, its a difficult task<br /><br />Why is it so that I am found<br />Among tall grass and weeds around<br />Yet of my nectar the humming birds take<br />Thou hast me here to hunger slake<br /><br />Yes I have you on the mountain terrain<br />Or full of blossoms down a country lane<br />Swaying gently in the wind that blows<br />Where soft your fragrance lingering flows <br /><br />For I have planted you where you be<br />Though the air of simplicity envelops thee<br />Humble and of glory taking no degree<br />Yet your petals are used of me<br /><br />I need the rose and lily too<br />Dear mountain wildflower also you<br />To speak of me and show my glory<br />Every flower I plant tells my story<br /><br />Then I’ll come some glorious day<br />To gather up my own bouquet<br />Roses, lilies help make up the bower<br />Along with you my Mountain Wildflower<br /><br />Colin S Moffett & Patricia A Moore<br /> September 7 2009<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-88703261189175743132009-08-27T19:37:00.002-05:002009-08-27T19:43:42.654-05:00Mountain Promise<div><br /> <object classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,0,0" width="210" height="25" id="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle"><br /> <param name="allowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain" /><br /> <param name="movie" value="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Mountain_Promise.mp3&autoStart=no" /><br /> <param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent" /><br /> <embed src="http://www.podbean.com/podcast-audio-video-blog-player/mp3playerdarksmallv3.swf?audioPath=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/6/29/2493010/Mountain_Promise.mp3&autoStart=no" quality="high" width="210" height="25" name="mp3playerdarksmallv3" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /></embed><br /> </object><br /> <br /><a style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; padding-left: 41px; color: #2DA274; text-decoration: none; border-bottom: none;" href="http://www.podbean.com">Powered by Podbean.com</a><br /> </div><br /><br /> <br />To my Baby Boy ( Brian ) <br /><br />© Patricia A. Moore<br />ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br /><br /><br />Chorus:<br />Your mountains surround<br />And give me peace to hold<br />Like rain upon the grass<br />Watering a weeping soul<br />Come ye, He’ll let you know<br />Of the mountain promise<br />Of long ago.<br /><br /><br />Verse:<br />Walking through the mountains<br />To the valleys I was sent<br />Bringing me closer to you<br />Refining me every moment I spent.<br />A rough terrain<br />I travel through<br />Heading to the mountain promise<br />‘Til I’m at rest with you.<br /><br /><br />Chorus:<br />Your mountains surround<br />And give me peace to hold<br />Like rain upon the grass<br />Watering a weeping soul<br />Come ye, he’ll let you know<br />Of the mountain promise<br />Of long ago.<br /><br /><br />Verse:<br />Yesterday, today, and tomorrow<br />He still holds true<br />That mountain promise<br />He gave to me and you.<br /><br /><br />Chorus:<br />Your mountains surround<br />And give me peace to hold<br />Like rain upon the grass<br />Watering a weeping soul<br />Come ye, he’ll let you know<br />Of the mountain promise<br />Of long ago.<br />Come ye, he’ll let you know<br />Of the mountain promise<br />Of long ago.<br /><br /><br />Music and Melody: Gerti M. Blackwell<br />Vocals: Gerti M. Blackwell, Patricia A. Moore, Judy L. Wilson<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-37578985410920568382009-08-27T19:26:00.002-05:002009-08-27T19:30:07.500-05:00DreamlandGood Morning…Good Night… I sit wide awake<br /> wondering when sleep will visit for my sake<br />Pondering the question running through me head<br />Why am I not in that bed..<br /><br />Tossed and turned till I finally got up<br />Made a cup of coffee on which I sup<br />Hearing a sudden sound I turned an spin<br />There was Sir Colin with dimples and grin<br /><br />Fair maid why didst thou not sleep<br />Hast thou forgotten to count the sheep<br />Or even raccoons in thy head<br />When thee lay upon thy bed<br /><br />Mayst I ask the one of noble degree<br />How many ewes will it take me to see<br />Are raccoons running up yon pole<br />Before this answer I woudst know<br /><br />I will that sugar plums were tossing in mine head<br />Then I woudst have sweet dreams in me stead<br />Shall I count backwards from hundred to 0<br />Then off to dreamland I shoudst go<br /><br /><br />Last night I didst fine<br />I went to sleep at the count of nine<br />Fair maid Patty thou shouldst not weep<br />I fell over for I talked myself to sleep<br />I hast come to say some words in thy ear<br />And dreamland for thee will soon then appear<br /> <br /><br /><br />O let it be of a kings decree<br />How this Irish poet didst help me<br />Let it be heard throughout the land<br />The name of the Bard is Colin Stephen..<br /> THE END <br />Patricia A Moore &Colin S Moffett<br />August 2009<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6311647161327320956.post-11867019695253935812009-08-27T19:20:00.001-05:002009-08-27T19:35:14.532-05:00"Where Is Your God..... Mother?"11:45 P.M. : Phone call <br />When answering the phone<br />This is what was said…<br />“Dad let me talk to Mom” ..<br />The first words I heard were…<br />“Where is your God .. Mother?”<br /> <br />Where is your God .. Mother?<br />When I work and work<br />And can not make ends meet ..<br />Where do I go .. whom do I seek?<br /> <br />Where is your God … Mother?<br />Why is He doing this to me?<br />When I try to make my marriage work<br />And only trouble do I see.<br /> <br /> Where is your God ….Mother?<br />When after talking to you the other day<br />I got down on my knees and started to pray<br />I didn’t see or hear anything ..<br />All I felt was only pain.<br /> <br /> Where is your God .. Mother?<br />When I went to a Christian school<br />I get out in the world and money’s what rules<br />And I feel hate all around<br />Where is the love .. can it be found?<br /> <br /> Where is your God ..Mother?<br /> Please tell me Mom, I need to understand,<br />Why you believe in a book written by man.<br /> Did someone tell you it was true,<br />Or did God come to only you?<br /> <br />Let me tell you my baby son<br />If it was not for God<br />That phone wouldn’t have rung<br />And it’s that cry in your heart today<br />Is why your Mother continues to pray.<br /> <br />Love You my baby boy..<br /> Your Mother..<br /> <br />Patricia A Moore <br />August 2009<div class="blogger-post-footer">http://wildflowersheartofgold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default</div>Patricia A Moorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08422371278371887137noreply@blogger.com0