A gate called Beautiful
There is a gate called Beautiful
from which they heard the cripple's call
and silver and gold could never repay
the healing that he received that day.
'Look at us', to him Peter and John said
and gave not money but healing instead.
Reaching out to him they took his hand
and the crippled man began to stand.
Then walking and leaping he was healed
and the mighty power of Jesus' was revealed.
******
I've found a place even more beautiful
a place where everyone can come and call.
To buy without money for the price was paid
when the awfulness of sin on Jesus was laid.
For on a cross at that place called Calvary
the love of God is shown for us all to see.
I came to that cross all crippled with sin
and th blood of Jesus washcleansed me within.
Reaching out to me He took my hand
and this crippled man's now able to stand.
Based on Acts 3: 1-10
Related quotes
Silver And Gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver & Gold
Words and Music by Johnny Marks.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Up In Jesus Name
(mike curtis/marty raybon)
Get up in, get up in jesus name
The lord is calling daily to those
Who would be saved
Dont go down defeated while victorys
Here to claim
Get up, get up, get up in jesus name
At the gate called beautiful, there laid out in the street
A poor and lowly beggar who was crippled in his feet
As john and peter passed him, they saw his need was bad
They had no gold or silver, but they gave him what they had
Get up in, get up in jesus name
The lord is calling daily to those
Who would be saved
Dont go down defeated while victorys
Here to claim
Get up, get up, get up in jesus name
In the day which we live in, theres evil everywhere
The body seems discouraged and overcome with fear
Well God is needing soildiers, to get out of the pews
And take hold of the power that john and peter used
Get up in, get up in jesus name
The lord is calling daily to those
Who would be saved
Dont go down defeated while victorys
Here to claim
Get up, get up, get up in jesus name
song performed by by Lee Ann Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cripple Creek
1: well I married a wife in the month of june,
Married her up by the light of the moon.
We live down on cripple creek.
Weve been there about a week.
Chorus: Im a-goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
Goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
2: now cripple creek girls about half-grown,
Jump on a man like a dog on a bone.
Roll my pants up to my knees,
Cross on cripple creek a-when I please.
Chorus: Im a-goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run,
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
Goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
3: well Im goin to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Im a-goin to cripple creek to have some fun.
Chorus: Im a-goin to cripple creek, Im goin on a run,
Goin to cripple creek to have some fun.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver Is Metal Used To Kill Demon Souls
gold gold is the fever metal
for the love of gold shining in their eyes
men resort to violent base morals
gold lust will turn men's
hearts to savage beasts
gold is not a beautiful metal
of salvation
curse of death men's
gold haunts
generations of men
silver silver is redemption metal
thirty pieces of silver payment
price for betrayal of prophet Christ
in blood of Christ
silver is granted power over evil
silver is metal
used to kill demon souls
silver not gold
is salvation metal
with power to slay evil
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lie
Some might call it a fabrication
While others might call it a fib
And some will call it down right dishonest
But happily with their soul they can live.
Some might call it an untruth
While others will call it a deception
Some will nod their heads and walk away
And they wont make any exception.
I have heard it called misinforming
And also heard it called a falsification
But then those words were so very kindly used
To protect someone else's reputation.
I have also heard it to be misleading
And also to be used in perjury
Sometimes they are used in a sophisticated way
But with that word they rush and hurry.
I know that is nothing but a falsehood
And the meaning and end effect you cant deny
The actions of the word can be called anything at all
But to me a lie, is nothing but a lie.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Three Silver Screen Cowboys (Fun Poem 24)
The Lone Ranger with a hearty cry,
from within a cloud of dust,
you can hear him say “Hi Ho, woe, woe, woe Silver,
as he hangs onto Silver’s tail.
He is hanging there because he called Silver a naughty word.
Silver did not like it one little bit.
Now he’s off down the canyon,
in a cloud of dust and boots alight,
trying to get Silver to slow down,
so he can apologise to him.
I do not suspect you have ever heard
of a guy they called Sunset Carson.
One day he rode off with a gal
into the sunset,
and was never seen again.
That is probably why
you have never heard of him.
There used to be a cowboy
who rode the silver screen.
He was one of the good guys at that
and his name was “Hoot” Gibson.
Now did you ever wonder
How “Hoot” ever got the name?
He jumped on a horse one day
while making a film,
and he hit the saddle horn.
You could hear him for miles,
shouting, “Hoot! Hoot! Hoot! ”
That is how “Hoot” Gibson was born.
poem by David Harris
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That Beautiful Somewhere...
That beautiful somewhere
Wherever you are
Those faraway places from here
In the days afar
That beautiful dream
In the distant from all
In a flowing stream
Those sometimes call
In dreams that come true
When days are in real
As memories we renew
With each our own feel
Days that once were blue
In aspects and appeal
Coming here again thru
With our thoughts surreal
That beautiful somewhere
Its touch and its flow
Those in far-away from nowhere
Those come here and go
Their magical spots
In evening of gold
Those beautiful plots
Those at times unfold
That beautiful somewhere
Wherever you are
Those faraway places from here
In the days afar
That beautiful of nowhere
In my heart and yours
Giving all its beauty to share
And life adores
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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St. Peter At The Golden Gate
St. Peter at the Golden Gate
Explained, for me it’s much too late
That Heaven’s gate, without a doubt
Was built right there to keep me out
It’s common knowledge, I’m no Saint
But a real bad guy, I surely ain’t
Heaven knows, I’ve done some wrong
But it doesn’t mean I don’t belong
I know I’m not the most devout
But pray, St. Peter, don’t fence me out
I promise I won’t cause chagrin
To those in Heaven, all fenced in
I’ll run a casino for all to enjoy
I’ll run it as pure as an altar boy
And dear St. Peter, I give you this pledge
At Heaven’s casino, I’ll give you an edge
So you see, St. Peter, Heaven can’t wait
What’s needed in Heaven, is me, your soul mate
Do what you can to unlock the key
So together we’ll be, St. Peter and me…
poem by Stanley Cooper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lightgreen
Wolstencroft they called the guard,
big he was, a tub of lard.
Stood before the Pearly Gate
guarding heavenly estate.
Came St. Peter, checked ID,
said it simply cannot be
that a man who is not white
could come in, it was not right.
God was asked about his view,
he replied 'The sky is blue,
it is not your bloomin' race
or your black and ugly face.
It's the name, you could be green,
brownish like a Pinto Bean,
you would see that at this gate
we do not discriminate.'
Adds St. Peter 'We ain't mean,
but if someone who looks green
wants to gain up here admission
it's a simpleton's decision.
Green, the colour, comes in shades,
dark would be the Everglades,
no one here adores the night,
we prefer the green be light.'
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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St. John, Apostle and Evangelist
The younger son of father, Zebedee,
And younger brother of St. James, the great;
His mother was Mary’s sister, Salome;
He was the disciple whom Jesus loved.
A fisherman like his father,
He fished in Genesaret Lake;
Called ‘Boanerges’ by Jesus,
Meaning ‘sons of thunder (anger) ’.
Born in Bethsaida, Galilee AD6,
One of twelve apostles of Christ;
A former disciple of St John, the Baptist,
A ‘half-cousin’ of Jesus Christ.
John was called Evangelist too;
A friend of Jesus, fast and thick;
He sat near Christ at Last Supper;
He went to jail with St. Peter.
Called ‘Apostle of Charity’;
St John the Theologian;
St John the divine;
He saw Peter heal the lame man.
He witnessed Jairus’ daughter being raised,
And was in Gethsemane with Peter;
He called Christ, the Lamb of God;
He was a ‘pillar of the Church’.
With Mary, John stood near the cross,
And Jesus said, ‘This is your son! ’
And to John, ‘This is your mother! ’
He saw Jesus when transfigured.
He ran with Peter to Christ’s grave,
Believing Him to have risen;
He recognized Jesus ashore,
When he appeared after He rose.
Thrown into a cauldron of boiling oil,
He did not suffer injury.
He was banished to Patmos isle.
He wrote his gospel at Ephesus.
He wrote the fourth Gospel;
He wrote three epistles;
The Book of Revelation (Apocalypse):
He founded churches in Asia Minor.
He died at AD 100 when,
He was extremely old by then;
He died on Sept 26th.
His feast is on Dec 27th.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 09-07-‘08
poem by John Celes
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The Relativity
To leave John and move towards Peter,
I must hate John or love Peter more.
John must ignore, or Peter must lure.
Relations thrive in relativity.
(17.05.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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So where's my silver lining?
I ofetn ly awake and wonder
while outside the stars are shining
well, on this earth someone sure loves me
and he's called my silver lining...
When i think of what he's like i see
his smile's mischivious, his eyes are loving
he's promised to love me all my life
and he's called my silver lining...
When i think of what his nature would be
so true are this thoughts & genuine each feeling
i sure hope he always stays that way
and he's called my silver lining...
When i think of what our relation feels life
he's my hero, he's protective & calls me his darling
he shares & cares, he understands my silence
and he's called my silver lining...
Well on this earth, someone sure loves me
and he's called my silver lining...
with dreams in my eyes, i'm waiting right now
so where's my silver living?
poem by Nitya Pillai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Olympics 2012
Flu Theory of Failure
In the Olympics year of twenty twelve
Flu took gold in Australia.
With gold on the chest of the flu,
Silver was the best we could do-
Thus Silver's Gold, not A Failure.
Boo Hoo Hoo
Peculiar to
Australia,
The sulphur-crested cockatoo.
Other white Australians,
The lot of them are aliens,
Silver is their hue,
Will be Sally's too.
With gold on the chest of the flu,
Silver's the best she can do-
Her silver is gold, not a failure.
Castaway
I learnt in the Laser Class race
What function at the coal face
You could possibly qualify for
By sailing an ironing board.
Say Tom Hanks had been able to do it:
he'd have been off the isle in a minute,
His wife wouldn't have gotten so bored,
And we'd've been spared an hour or four.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Blue Gold Sky
Blue gold sky
Your fire is burning
Horizon questions why
Your evening is yearning
For a day that is soon gone
Into oblivion abyss
To carry the night on
In dreamy nocturnal kiss
All the blue gold is bound
Into your drifting clouds
Sunset of silver found
Among the streets and crowds
Love song of dusky distant
Where weaving dreams go
In to the nonexistent
Of ocean’s nightly glow
Blue gold sky
Yesterday is in your sight
When you come in sweet lullaby
In the falling off the eve light
Chariot of fire gold
Blue silver moon beyond
Nothing your dreams can hold
You are to stars whishes bond
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Silver Is Just A Shiney Grey
That jewlery you gave me,
I thought was so beautiful.
Silver and gold and presious gemstones.
You said they were a symble of your love.
But silver is just a shiny grey,
And you took your love away.
Bit by painful bit,
You asked for a break.
I saw it coming,
But it still hurts the same.
They say that there's always a silver lining
To every cloud.
Silver lineing is still a grey cloud.
Someday, somehow, I'll find out
Gold is just a shiney yellow.
But yellow is happy and sunny.
Someday I'll find my yellow tounged hero.
poem by Melanie Weeks
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The Fields Of Flanders
Last year the fields were all glad and gay
With silver daisies and silver may;
There were kingcups gold by the river's edge
And primrose stars under every hedge.
This year the fields are trampled and brown,
The hedges are broken and beaten down,
And where the primroses used to grow
Are little black crosses set in a row.
And the flower of hopes, and the flowers of dreams,
The noble, fruitful, beautiful schemes,
The tree of life with its fruit and bud,
Are trampled down in the mud and the blood.
The changing seasons will bring again
The magic of Spring to our wood and plain;
Though the Spring be so green as never was seen
The crosses will still be black in the green.
The God of battles shall judge the foe
Who trampled our country and laid her low. . . .
God! hold our hands on the reckoning day,
Lest all we owe them we should repay
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A beautiful thing called YOU
How to write about a beautiful piece of God’s writing
I mean what is there to edit?
Did God leave room for improvement
Oh I see, he did leave some for comment
And praise and Glory to value
A Beautiful thing called you
Unmatched in splendor
A beautiful thing named you
That only God` s description could equal the importance
A beautiful thing called you
That only the angelic can understand
A beautiful thing called you
Whose creation was inspired by the divine
A beautiful thing called you
That the universe handles with care
A beautiful thing called you
Whose shape was sculpted by His own word
A beautiful thing called you
How do I begin to describe it
Is it by letter
Oh I see holding it is better
How do I own it
To praise the glory and the value
A beautiful thing called you
Oh I see, God knows better
The value the Glory and the praise
No, He revealed it to me
But still I cant
Bear the praise the value and the glory
That flows from those eyes
The ear the nose and the belly
I looked through the key hole to see the sky
I saw heaven`s 1 2 3 stars shy
HE opened the door of your heart
Behold the millions that were hidden
Now I know
How to Praise the glory and the value of a beautiful thing called you.
poem by Didier Sixte Kahungu
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Cripple Creek Ferry
Hey, hey cripple creek ferry
Butting through the overhanging trees
Make way for the cripple creek ferry
The waters going down its a mighty tight squeeze.
All alone the captain stands
Hasnt heard from his deck hands.
The gambler tips his hat and walks towards the door.
Its the second half of the cruise.
And you know he hates to lose.
Hey, hey cripple creek ferry
Butting through the overhanging trees
Make way for the cripple creek ferry
The waters going down its a mighty tight squeeze.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Healing
I'm still healing, I'm still dying.
I'm still healing, I'm still nothing.
I'm still healing, I live alone.
I'm still healing, my eyes see shadows.
I'm still healing, I love no one.
I'm still healing, I'm finally dead.
poem by Jill Laughlin
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