..........Of Old Times..........
Whatever happened to the time
When men the mountains longed to climb?
To prove themselves and reach the top --
They set their goal and did not stop!
They took great pride in what they did
And you could bank on what they said,
They lived and learned and gave their best:
Kept what they must and left the rest.
They knew not then our ease of life
Each day was filled with mortal strife,
The sun came up -- to work they went:
They turned not to the government!
It's hard to think we came from them,
Who live each day to chase a whim;
I wonder if we'de live or die
If forced to live beneath their sky?
You can't depend on what men say
They change their mind from day to day
With much disdain on work they look --
Their only learning from a book!
They think themselves advanced and great
Each day they live to celebrate
Except they turn -- oh, what a fate!
May they wake up before "too late".
..........H. L. Gradowith..........
April, 1997
Was there ever such a time? Perhaps, perhaps not. But it is
nice to
ponder........ Tim Smith
******************************************************************
Date: Apr 06 2000 07:51:08
EDT
Subject: Three Apples Part 1
..........THREE APPLES..........
............Part One............
(This poem is based on a story from the Arabian Nights,
and is as yet unfinished. It will be submitted in
installments from time to time.)
The tale is told of Apples Three
So long ago in history...
At first we see a fisherman
Who strove his way in life to make;
He worked as hard as any can:
Casting his net into the lake.
But one day he his craft did ply
From noon-time until set of sun,
Though he, with all his might, did try:
He caught no fish -- not even one!
Despondently he trod his course,
Hating his very existence;
His weary soul filled with remorse,
Begrudging life's long persistence.
Perchance there came two men his way
Now hear the words they had to say:
Old man, we cannot help but see
That things are not well with thy heart;
So tell us now what aileth thee:
What causeth thee to sting and smart?
The old man knew it was the king
And his servant who wished to know,
And so he told them ev'rything:
His effort, his failure, his woe.
The king was touched and moved to tears
Thus spoke he to the fisherman:
Bewail no more! Redemption nears,
Though none else can help: Thy king can.
He bade him to the lake side go
And gave this plan to lift his woe:
Two Hundred coins of purest gold
I'll give thee for what thou shalt bring;
Cast now thy net, be brave, be bold:
Obedient be to thy king!
So in the net the man did cast,
And let it to the bottom go;
And as he pulled, now at long last,
God's mercy a catch did bestow.
'Twas not with fish his net was filled,
But filled it was, still all the same!
And how his weary heart was thrilled:
With bounty his hunger to tame.
A box he drew in with his net,
This box, for coins, the king did get.
Back to the palace took he it
And had his servant pry it free;
And by a lamp its contents lit,
He peered within the lid to see:
A garment sewn to make a bag,
(His lust to know would not abate);
The dress was new: no tattered rag,
Why was it here within this crate?
Asunder rent he it, my friend,
And there a carpet did behold;
It was open on either end,
But with great care it had been rolled.
The servant laid it all before
The king upon the palace floor:
Within the carpet was concealed
The body of a maiden fair;
Her murder thus her bones revealed
The king, aghast, on it did stare.
He sought to know what brought this maid
To such an end as she did meet;
His mind upon her case was staid:
For e'en in death her form was sweet.
His servant sent he forth to find
The guilty one who this did do;
And lest the servant pay no mind:
The king said, "I'll kill him, or you."
Three days were giv'n, and three days went
And for the servant the king sent.
The servant fell before the throne
And kissed the ground between his feet;
The servant knelt there all alone:
He his assignment did not meet.
Without the guilty one to show,
The king, in anger, had him bound;
"Unto the gallows he must go!
For yet the guilty is not found."
The word was sent, the crowd drew near
To mourn for him now bound to die;
The servant was to all men dear,
Each eye was wet, each heart did sigh.
But then an old man rose and said:
"By my own hand this child is dead."
'Tis I who with my life should pay,
Alone I bear the dreadful shame;
Release this man, his fears allay,
And take my life -- I am to blame.
They freed the servant of the king,
And to the old man he then spoke:
"Why, man, hast thou now done this thing?
Carest not heaven's law ye broke?
Speak up -- give answer for your deed:
For soon before the king you'll stand,
For mercy then you'll be in need,
Lest you should fall beneath his hand."
Just then a young man stood to speak
And said, "I am the one you seek."
The crowd astir to him then turned
And on his ev'ry word did hang;
The truth on this they each one yearned,
Their ears tuned to the song he sang.
"'Twas I who cost this girl her life,
And with these hands her blood I shed:
This woman was my loving wife,
But now, because of me, she's dead."
The servant asked, "Which of these two
Who tell these tales shall we believe?
Which story shall be proven true?
Which man, I ask, sought to deceive?"
The servant led them to the king
And told him of this newest thing.
The old man spoke in much distress,
And to himself all blame he took,
"The crime," said he, "I now confess,
God's law I wantonly forsook.
I pray thee, king, now take my life,
For I this woman's blood have shed;
I never shall be free from strife
Until like her my flesh lies dead.
Please now speak forth -- and seal my doom
Unto the house of flames send me,
For men as I there is no room
In heaven's sweet eternity."
Then stood the younger of the two
And said, "These words of mine are true:
This woman truly was my wife,
This man her father, it is true.
But I from her did steal the life:
So life for me must now be through.
This burden I can bear no more
This guilt destroys my weary heart.
Send me now to that burning shore:
From this vile flesh grant me depart.
What wait ye for? The deed was done,
The punishment is death, we know;
'Tis I that am the guilty one
Send me now to where I must go."
The king said, "Son, make clear to me
The meaning of this mystery."
"This woman was my loving bride
Three strapping sons to me she bore;
And now death takes her from my side,
Her friendship I shall know no more.
Some months ago my love took ill
And found herself in misery;
Near death she would be lingering still
But for my great iniquity.
As was my custom, I did ask
If I could be of any aid;
I would undertake any task:
This one request she to me made --
I wish, my lord, an apple sweet
To hasten me back to my feet.
So off I went this treat to seek,
At all the shops I shopped in vain;
No apple for my lover weak,
No treat to sooth her in her pain.
But then a friend who knew my plight
Informed me where my prize I'd find
The trip was long -- from light to light --
But all my cares I left behind.
I found the place and bought my prize
Three apples fine -- and costly, too;
Yet little did I realize
These apples meant her life was through.
..........H. L. Gradowith..........
I hope you do not mind my dabbling in non-biblical
stories with this one, I am a great fan of all such
literature. When the story is complete I will offer the
remainder on the list; until then, if curiosity is
getting the better of you, you will find the story in the Book of the
Thousand Nights and a Night. Thanks for your kind comments on the
other
poems, and I hope this one
will please you as well. Tim Smith
************************************************************************
Date: Apr 08 2000 07:54:11
EDT
Subject: The Stranger
..........The Stranger..........
As on a dark and winding road
I pressed along and bore my load
Complaining at my awful task
I met a man who this did ask:
"Why are you so despondent friend?
For rest awaits at journey's end."
"But I can see no coming rest,
Just more of this that I detest;
And now my flesh is sore," said I,
"And time draws near for me to die."
"Be strong, my child," the Stranger said,
"It just may be that when you're dead
You'll find that rest you seek in life,
In yon' fair land where is no strife."
In silence we walked on a bit,
And still within I longed to quit
Despite the things he had to say,
For Heaven seemed so far away.
"Kind Sir," said I, "What makes you think
That after death we shall not sink
Into the deepest pits of hell?
What makes you think that all is well
O'er in that land by darkness hid
That comes not 'til they've closed the lid
On our pine box and in the ground
So surely placed it safe and sound?"
"Take heart, my child," He then replied,
"The faithful shall be satisfied
When comes the end of life below
Sweet rest awaits -- this you may know:
You'll not be left then all alone
If here the Savior you have known."
Again in silence we walked on
'Til time drew near for break of dawn
I saw what seemed a gaping wound
In fear the worst I then assumed
An awful villain was this man
To take my goods his evil plan!
But in the dim light of the stars
I saw what looked to me like scars
Indeed a hole within each hand:
Confused, I did not understand...
And then His feet my eyes beheld
At once my heart within me swelled
I gazed upon His searching eyes
The Stranger I then recognized
And as the dark gave way to day
I found my Friend had gone away.
I thought upon the words He spoke
New hope within my heart awoke
And all my worries seemed so small
I found the strength to face them all!
I pressed along and bore my load
Along the dark and winding road.
It's funny how fears disappear
When to the Savior one draws near;
And how one sore perplexed, distressed:
Finds in Him comfort, peace and rest.
Now when my strength has reached its end
I stop and think of that strange Friend
Who spoke of life beyond the grave:
'Twas Christ who died, my soul to save.
..........H. L. Gradowith..........
Of course, this is not an account of an actual event. It is a figurative
narrative designed to show the hope and comfort Christ brings, the
life-changing potential in coming to Him, and the folly of bearing one's
load alone. I hope you enjoyed it. Tim Smith