"A light that passes by"

[ColorMEreal]

J. Ann Tibbetts book "A light that passes by" was just recently published/released a month or two ago. She is an up and coming LDS writer that I love. Here's the authors web site for anyone who wants to look into her new book, Jenny Ann Tibbetts

It's by far the best book I've read in a long time...

[ColorMEreal]

Here's one of my favorite poems by J. Ann Tibbetts. This short little poem addresses the issue of abortion in an eternal light.

This poem was recently featured on the PRO-LIFE facebook group (LIFE- Let's see how many pro-life people are on facebook.) As of Saturday, January 16, 2010......1,725,060 peace loving members now belong to this PRO-LIFE facebook group.

Tiny Refugees

They come into this world

As tiny refugees

From a place where truth is timeless.

Each is a spirit son or daughter of God.

Their tiny souls

Hold tiny hearts that beat!

They’re not made of rubber.

They feel

And they bleed!

Each has a spirit

With very real needs.

They start out on life’s journey

As the most defenseless among us.

Each has a voice

Though not fully developed.

They each come to earth

With infinite possibilities.

Each with their very own wish:

Life.

By J. Ann Tibbetts

Jenny Ann Tibbetts

[ColorMEreal]

My not so imaginary friend

You ran with me

Through the tickling grass,

Skipping rocks over water

We searched for lost treasures;

We climbed the tallest trees.

It was always you and me.

We played in mom’s laundry.

You ran beside me to school.

We read so many books.

I was Peter Pan

And you

Were my Captain Hook!

And as I grew

You asked me

To take chances:

To smile

When I was sad

To let go

When it wans’t to be had.

And now I wonder

Who was that then?

That whispering stranger

In the wind.

Do guardian angels exist?

Did they come to my rescue?

Perhaps it was God?

I never really knew.

But nothing was more real

Than you.

***Excerpt taken out of Chapter One

[KCGrant]

Beautiful poetry.

[ColorMEreal]

Thanks.

[ColorMEreal]

Another awesome poem in this book about our vets, who often feel forggotten and left behind...

Let's bring our soldiers home

There are some who served this country

Who never really came home.

They remain locked up

In lost worlds,

Prisoners behind bars—

Bars of addiction

Bars of pain

Bars for bureaucracy’s gain.

We can bring these soldiers home,

Bring their nightmares

To an end.

Addictions can be cured;

The healing can begin!

They’d do much more for us.

Let’s take a stand for them!

No soldier left behind.

The healing can begin.

They must not be forgotten.

Some gave all

So that we might be.

Some gave their lives,

Their health,

Their sanity...

Jenny Ann Tibbetts

By J. Ann Tibbetts

[ColorMEreal]

This short poem is a dedication by the author to little girls and little boys everywhere. I love this poem, because as we know children are the greatest in the Kingdom of God.

Children

What kind of creature is this?

A creature that soars out of nowhere

With wings that aren’t so notably attached,

But which God can see.

Authors web site: Jenny Ann Tibbetts

[Dreamsscape04]

Sweet book of poems...

[ColorMEreal]

This poem seems kind of fitting in respect to all the crazy things going on in Washington right now...

What independence means to me

Independence is that feeling,

A sweet reverence from on high.

Carried in our soul of souls

A sureness on which we rely.

Independence is our story,

The story our freedom bears.

Its pages most remarkable,

Where liberty’s declared.

Independence is a song—

Sweet freedom ringing out

The anthems angels know,

God’s symphonies that flow.

Independence is our strength,

Soaring ever high.

Upon the wings of eagles

A mighty nation rides.

Independence begs the question:

Can you see old glory still?

Waving, as if on wings,

The stars and stripes in heaven’s light,

Our glory days redeemed!

Jenny Ann Tibbetts

[pam]

J. Ann Tibbetts book "A light that passes by" was just recently published/released a month or two ago. She is an up and coming LDS writer that I love. Here's the authors web site for anyone who wants to look into her new book, Jenny Ann Tibbetts

It's by far the best book I've read in a long time...

Of course it's by far the best book you've read in a long time. You wrote it. I might have actually bought the book. But I don't care for deception.

[ColorMEreal]

It's my way of sharing. I do not charge for copies of my work. If you'd like a full copy of my book, I'd be happy to give it to one and all for free. It's my way of sharing my testimony. :)

[Elphaba]

It's my way of sharing. I do not charge for copies of my work. If you'd like a full copy of my book, I'd be happy to give it to one and all for free. It's my way of sharing my testimony. :)

By lying?

You either completely missed Pam's point, or you are completely obtuse.

Elphaba

[ColorMEreal]

It's a common thing on this forum and on many other writing forums I've belonged to, to not give out your personal information to the whole world. Most folks on this site do not shed light on their true identity and I can't say I blame them. I've had some pretty bad experiences on other forums when used my real identity, so I've made it a priority to never do so. From a safety stand point it's where I feel comfortable. Simple as that. :)

[ColorMEreal]

I guess I get a little over excited about sharing my message/my testimony with others. So I'd like to apologize and offer a free downloaded copy of my book to anyone who'd like one.

I've just had a lot of miserable luck on other writing or poetry forums. To me real poetry is dead to this world and I've made it my life's mission to bring it back. Unfortunately their isn't a writing (poetry) forum out there that I'd like to be a member of anymore. If your writing/poetry doesn't support whats political correct, your out spoken sometimes ten to one. The most offensive subjects on some of the forums I've joined were subject relating to Christ, morality or patriotism. The very subjects I desire to write about most often. So as you can imagine, i often stuck out like a sore themb! So I've learned to keep a very low profile and give as little information out about myself as possible.

I've gone through two computers in a year in a half after my computer's were infected with viruses. Although I'll never know where the viruses actually came from, it's made me very weary on certain web sites. I am very weary about coming right out and saying Hi, my name is such and such...I write poetry, wanna hear some?

LDS.net is very different on a large scale. In hindsight I should have joined this site with a bit more faith and trust and for that, I'm sorry.

[Wingnut]

I guess I get a little over excited about sharing my message/my testimony with others. So I'd like to apologize and offer a free downloaded copy of my book to anyone who'd like one.

I've just had a lot of miserable luck on other writing or poetry forums. To me real poetry is dead to this world and I've made it my life's mission to bring it back. Unfortunately their isn't a writing (poetry) forum out there that I'd like to be a member of anymore. If your writing/poetry doesn't support whats political correct, your out spoken sometimes ten to one. The most offensive subjects on some of the forums I've joined were subject relating to Christ, morality or patriotism. The very subjects I desire to write about most often. So as you can imagine, i often stuck out like a sore themb! So I've learned to keep a very low profile and give as little information out about myself as possible.

I've gone through two computers in a year in a half after my computer's were infected with viruses. Although I'll never know where the viruses actually came from, it's made me very weary on certain web sites. I am very weary about coming right out and saying Hi, my name is such and such...I write poetry, wanna hear some?

LDS.net is very different on a large scale. In hindsight I should have joined this site with a bit more faith and trust and for that, I'm sorry.

Your myriad spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors detract from your credibility as a writer.

[ColorMEreal]

Thanks for the brownie points. I was in a hurry when I posted earlier and did not take the time to write proficiently. Though I claim to be a writer, I never claimed to be perfect. That glory is reserved for the man upstairs. :)

[pam]

Your myriad spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors detract from your credibility as a writer.

In her defense, I'm sure there are many writers who don't spell, punctuate or are grammatically correct at all times. That's why there are proofreaders and editors who fine tune writings before they are published. I could have a great idea for a story but lack the complete knowledge of punctuation.

[ColorMEreal]

Thanks for the kind words Pam.

"The once grim soul"

There once lived a soul,

So lost and cold,

Who felt no way out

Of his fears and self-doubts.

The path was long,

The journey grueling,

Without the slightest hints of mercy

For one who felt

Like such a lost and forgotten fool.

Oh, what an awful, dark place

For one to put their fate.

He hadn’t a friend in the world

To brighten up his day.

“Why me? Why Me?”

He bellowed to himself.

“So pathetic I must be,

To arrive at such a place

Where my life is but a waste!”

As he lay in his wasted puddles of dreams,

Awaiting his fate on some hellish estate.

A chance encounter not of his making

Appeared out of nowhere,

There to awake him.

For standing above him

Was a kind old man,

With a pleasant disposition

Who extended his hand.

He was short and stubby

And even a bit chubby.

With old, ragged clothes

And a large, crooked nose.

With a gleam in his eye

And a soft lofty smile

He extended his hand

And asked to stay awhile.

The tired old soul

That wallowed below him

Slowly looked up

With a look so grim.

“Go on your way!” Muttered the grumpy, old soul.

“You cannot help me. You have nothing to offer

For the life I’ve been dealt!”

“I’m unpleasant to be around,

I’m mean and I’m sharp!

I’m worn out and old,

And my heart has grown cold!

I’ve sinned more sins

Then you could ever be told.”

“There’s no need to stay,

So just go on your way!

I’m not worth your time

For here an unpleasant fate you shall find!”

But the happy old man

That stood just above him

Remained right where he would.

For you could see in his eyes,

That he so clearly understood.

He did not see before him

The unpleasant old soul just described.

No, something more glorious

Illuminated in his eyes.

Looking past all the ugliest anger and sin,

That, trust me, was most definitely and most certainly

within.

He saw a hunger and a thirsting.

A starving, deprived soul,

That was all caved in.

He saw a wanting,

A needing inside,

Hidden and lost,

In a deep pit of pride!

And within that lost pit

Lived a glorious thing!

The greatest of all human potentials,

Laying idle, awaiting its heavenly aim.

As he saw this great potential,

So forgotten within.

He saw lost dreams

Still alive, though very dim.

And he recognized the poor soul

As a lost and cherished friend,

That he did once know.

But it saddened him so

That his lost and cherished friend

Hadn’t even noted or recognized him.

Though wounded and bleeding upon the ground,

Oh, how delighted the kind man felt

That his lost friend had been found!

For he knew his soul was priceless,

Worthy of all heavenly love,

But sadly the lost soul

Failed to recognize his Lord that stood above.

But the more the grim old soul

Looked at the kind old man,

The more his soul

And his mind did expand.

So the grim old soul

Began to sit and ponder,

Searching his mind

As his thoughts did wander.

He had a funny, quaint feeling

That he’d met this stranger before.

Somewhere deep down in the center of his soul

Whispered a knowing feeling

As his thoughts did flow.

A feeling that had been lost

And forgotten in time,

From some far away past

That he couldn’t quite find …

Something so deep

And something so stirring,

From a story he somehow knew.

A feeling of truth that now rang true!

And then suddenly he felt

His old heart melt

As he looked yet again

At the kind old man,

A much different scene

Began to unravel … Began to redeem!

’Twas not the old man

Who once stood before him

With old, ragged clothes

And a large, crooked nose.

Now someone most divine

And most glorious arose!

Someone so loving,

So tender and mild.

Suddenly he felt so little

Like a little child.

He now understood

With full measure.

That it had been but impossible before

To recognize this kindly stranger.

Being that he, himself, was so lost,

And so dark within.

Without a doubt now,

So suddenly and so quickly,

The realization came—

He once knew this heavenly stranger,

Who once came into this world

As a babe in a manger!

The King of all kings,

The most adorned on high,

Stood so lovingly above him.

But why me? The grim soul marveled why.

With both arms stretched out

Towards his shivering soul,

Loving him regardless

Of all he did know!

The grim man’s world

Suddenly began to grow brighter.

His heavy soul

Even felt a bit lighter.

The air began to sparkle;

The sun began to come out. Indeed,

It was almost too glorious,

Too spectacular to believe!

The once grim man’s soul

Began to rattle and shake.

His heart did surrender,

As he fell into the arms

Of his Savior and defender.

“Forgive me, dear Lord, for I knew you not.

My life I did waste,

In such deceit and such haste!

And I’m sure I’m the biggest sinner there is,

But from this time forth,

I do promise you Lord,

I will live my life with more purpose,

To your accord.”

“Forgive me, my Lord,” He plead on and on.

Then he fell to God’s feet,

Overwhelmed in remorse,

As they both did weep.

The Lord then knelt

Beside his weeping soul.

And as he held out his hands

His touch healed him so!

His anguish and torment

He no longer did owe …

Suddenly he had a great desire,

A great desire for others to know.

“Others must know of your healing touch too!

Others must know of all that is true

For so many are lost and simply have no clue.”

“Will you tell them?” The Lord then

turned to him and asked.

“Will you awaken those that sleep

On my behalf? Will you extend your hand

To those broken down, who are in need?

To those who have fallen in pain, in fear, or in greed?

Will you visit the hungry, the sick and the poor?

Would you be willing to knock on your neighbor’s door?

Will you feed them and teach them and hold them

For me … Serve them with love, so they too might see?”

“Yes, my master, my Lord, my friend,”

He answered, feeling meek and lowly as

He knelt nearby.

New vows were then made.

And promises born,

Dreams redirected,

And many lives were affected.

From that time forth

His promises he kept.

A new man was born,

With each new step.

Never to fall back

Into that dark, dreary place,

Where he once thought his life

To be but a waste.

Reborn by faith,

Restored by God’s grace,

He now lived his life

At a more spiritual pace.

You may still see him

Every now and then,

Visiting the lost

And those plagued in sin.

Visiting the forgotten ones,

Found in dark places.

Pleading with old men,

With angry, grim faces.

Extending his hand,

To as many friends as he can.

Spreading the feast of God’s amazing grace

To those who fall into that very dark place.

Jenny Ann Tibbetts

[volgadon]

It's a common thing on this forum and on many other writing forums I've belonged to, to not give out your personal information to the whole world. Most folks on this site do not shed light on their true identity and I can't say I blame them. I've had some pretty bad experiences on other forums when used my real identity, so I've made it a priority to never do so. From a safety stand point it's where I feel comfortable. Simple as that. :)

It may be a common thing, but it is a dishonest thing if you try to promote your own work without revealing that you are the author. I post on writing and book forums, the sort of thing you did is always looked down upon.

[volgadon]

I've gone through two computers in a year in a half after my computer's were infected with viruses. Although I'll never know where the viruses actually came from, it's made me very weary on certain web sites.

Not revealing your true identity does not safeguard you from viruses.

I am very weary about coming right out and saying Hi, my name is such and such...I write poetry, wanna hear some?

So you find it infinitely less tedious to pose as a third party and praise your own work?

[volgadon]

So I'd like to apologize and offer a free downloaded copy of my book to anyone who'd like one.

I thought you said you didn't charge anyway.

[volgadon]

And if your privacy is such a big deal, why don't you use a nomme de plume?

[ColorMEreal]

Yeah, your right. I needed to eat some humble pie on this one. I should not have let the fear get in the way of my choices.

But I did mean what I said earlier, about downloading my book ( free of charge ) to anyone who is interested and that offer will always stand on this site. :)

[pam]

Okay everyone..I think people have had their say..now let's move on.

[Elphaba]

To me real poetry is dead to this world and I've made it my life's mission to bring it back.

I think this comment is very telling.

Elphaba