tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47346398956893587042024-03-12T21:04:53.479-07:00Rhyme Written in RedJohnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-83093864966551310102010-02-13T11:05:00.000-08:002010-02-13T11:22:19.680-08:00Internal Death<div style="text-align: center;">Wilt thou watch my soul diminish? Wilt thou not reach out?<br />I long for thee to be near, I long for thee to understand, I long for life.<br />Yea, Death is the master of my prison. I am bound for the time I am here.<br />I shall never be free, yet I shall endure.</div>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-52954824891209325602010-02-13T09:47:00.000-08:002010-02-13T10:53:55.500-08:00DARKANGEL<div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">violet. velvet. darkness. utter-black. no ground to stand. no ceiling to contain. not a wall. not a fence. no perimeter. no diameter. nothing bound, yet nothing free. eternal abyss stretching infinitely out into the black, blacker, blackest, and blacker still. in all directions... forever, and farther still... close, so close. too close. suffocating, yet never drowning. an epicenter, but no symmetry. a scale without balance, yet perfectly perpendicular. a void. filled and emptied. emptied and filled. vain. like a breath - a hard. heavy. breath. the kind you'd rather not take, but cannot do without. voluminous waves of nothing surge in to fill. coagulate. solidify. dissipate. nullify and surge back out.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">and here you are. <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">DARKANGEL</span>. epicenter of vanity. peace perfected by war. life completed in death. clouds. heaving. rising. falling. surging. white. black. violet. dark. twisting. together. apart. deafening silence. quiet roar.<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> DARKANGEL</span>. there you are. your hair, a silver vision. whirls in the emptiness and across a universe of space. yet close, ever close to you. your body, an ever changing veil of darkness. sometimes smooth. as it flows. sometimes rough. sometimes transparent. sometimes opaque. your brow, a contrast to the void. alabaster and proud. framed in swirling silver locks. soft with cold compassion. hard with hot hate. feeling is not in you. yet your motion betrays emotion.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">your eyes. <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">DARKANGEL</span>. the only light in this void. a cold, very cold, white light. blank and cold. blank and cold. and somehow dark., darker. black even. scanning the abyss with freezing precision. <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">DARKANGEL</span>. you are searching. for that one, minute particle of nothing that is not suspecting you. that one minuscule fragment of space that subconsciously knows you're looking for it. him. himself. and when you find it. him. your head will flash across time with a thunderclap. and then your wings. you spread them wide. black and white with fluorescent blue rippling across feathers of death and down. black fire erupts on the wingspan as ashen-white smoke billows behind and dissolves into the blackness. your white, cold eyes fix and lock upon the particle. blank and cold. blank and cold. the particle floats and does whatever it is that particles of nothing do. but the ANGEL is coming. YOU are coming. </span><br /></span></div><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"></span></div>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-9994206987127653452010-02-13T09:39:00.000-08:002010-02-13T09:46:31.409-08:00Wasted Grace (This is a Lie)<div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><div><div><b><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 14px;">Crawl home you beaten thing, I'll see you no more<br />I've lost my desire for you and your vulgar tirades<br />Your needs are blasphemy, they defile me<br />If I was what you claim to be, I'd be a waste of grace<br /><br />Separate right from wrong<br />Distinguish how far I've gone<br />Tell the Father about my fears<br />Take my hands from my face<br />He'll wipe away my tears<br />Keep me safe from lies of waste<br /><br />You're part of me, my birthright and unholy stain<br />So I'll be fighting you, you have no more claim on me<br />For you know I died to you long ago<br />I won't let you lie to me, convince me I'm wasted grace<br /><br />You're lying, you're lying to me<br />God doesn't waste His grace<br />I'm not a waste<br />I'm safe from your fire<br />I don't believe you<br />Liar, liar, liar<br /><br />Separate right from wrong<br />Distinguish how far I've gone<br />Tell the Father about my fears<br />Take my hands from my face<br />He'll wipe away my tears<br />Keep me safe from lies of waste</span></b></div></div></div>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-41797702732204448782010-01-03T14:06:00.000-08:002010-01-03T14:17:19.363-08:00Song of Eternity<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Blackadder ITC'; font-size: 21px; ">I look behind me-</span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">I see those who’ve gone before.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">You led each one-<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">You opened wide Your door.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">I look ahead-<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">My path obscured with sin and fear.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">“O, Lord, I need You by me!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">I need You to be near!”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">As I struggle on this path,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Falling in the fear of man,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Your promise is to not forsake-<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">“O, Child, take My hand.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Blindly, I grope<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">For Your outstretched hand,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Longing for freedom<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">From this slavery to man!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Suddenly, my eyes behold<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Your blessed Son<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">As at His bloody cross<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">I stand undone.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Weeping, I fall<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Before Your blessed Son<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">His complete sacrifice<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">My freedom has now won.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">My path is now<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Inflamed with light-<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">My future by Your Son’s Love<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Now shines so bright!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">As Your mercy guides me<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Through Your holy gate,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Justified, I firmly stand-<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Death no longer is my fate!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">In awe I stand<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Before Your throne-<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">By Your grace set free-<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">A Child of You alone!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Eternity with You is now<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">My Blessed End!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">“O Lord, You are my Love,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">My Father, My Friend!”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Holy, Holy, Holy!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">Breaks forth with joyous sound<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">As Eternity’s Song<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">To You I resound.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC""><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Blackadder ITC';font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">“My Lord, I love You!”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">I lay all at Your feet<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">As Eternity’s Song<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" align="center" style="text-align:center;line-height: normal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:"Blackadder ITC"">I’ll forever repeat!<o:p></o:p></span></p>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-86436256501666201002010-01-03T13:43:00.000-08:002010-01-03T14:02:39.292-08:00Adversity's Bloom<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; ">It is rough and rutty, this rod I carry. It is lifeless and cold. Its splinters snag like spurs as I grasp it in my hand, yet it cannot be released. My hands, though once smooth and supple, have now been calloused and warped by the thorns of this bitter stake, called Adversity.<br /><br />I cannot see the rugged terrain beneath my feet, and so I clamber over hollows and hurdles, scattered along the way, holding the rod as far from my body as my outstretched arms can bear. Step by step, I continue, my rod's weight increasing with every step taken.<br /><br />For a while, out of stubborn disdain, I continue trying to avoid the hurt caused by Adversity's spiteful shards. I scoff at the sight of it, which serves only as a reminder of the hindrance it presents.<br /><br />I have been told, however, that it is necessary, that I cannot complete the task ahead without it. That soon, I will change this gore for glory. I have been assured that I may trust the One from Whose Hand it came. The ache, the throb, the sting... each is working together for a good that I cannot yet see.<br /><br />Increasingly, I become weary of carrying on. In hopeless contempt, I hang my head as with one step, I am brought nearly to my knees in despair. My despondent heart is giving out, yet, almost instinctively, I thrust the rod's foot to the ground, bearing down on it with all of my weight.<br /><br />When brought close and embraced, the rod I had struggled to bear now offers support as I rise once more to my worn feet. Although, at once, I had seen it only as an instrument of pain, Adversity now brings peace.<br /><br />Suddenly, a new appreciation overwhelms me. I see this rod as an opportunity for triumph rather than torture. I step forward, and although the weight of the rod is still felt, it no longer poses a limitation. With every twinge of pain, a new strength is found, giving hope and courage for the step that follows.<br /><br />In wonder, I examine the rod beneath me, it's twisted form reminding me of my wrenched heart. My eyes pool with tears as I discover, carefully tucked away within the notches and knots of my rod, a single, solitary bud.</span>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-21152348078455433822010-01-03T13:11:00.000-08:002010-01-03T13:37:01.239-08:00The Day Chivalry Died<div style="text-align: center;">A high pitched moan,</div><div style="text-align: center;">A low pitched groan,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The wardrobe door ajar.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Under dim light,</div><div style="text-align: center;">An ancient knight,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The wrinkled warrior.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He peers inside,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And sighs with pride,</div><div style="text-align: center;">To see his armor suit.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He reaches in,</div><div style="text-align: center;">To touch the tin,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The steel and silver truth.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He traces down,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The plume, the crown,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The helm, the plate, the belt.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Once gleaming bright,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Now cased in night,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tarnish and rust he felt.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">A pang of pain,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And strident strain,</div><div style="text-align: center;">As he unsheathes the sword.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The sword so stout,</div><div style="text-align: center;">He wields about,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And utters not a word.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The olden days,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Like fading haze,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Return to him in waves.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dismaying dames,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And noble knaves,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And dragons deep in caves.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The sword, the shield,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The battlefield,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The banners they would fly.</div><div style="text-align: center;">When weapons wield,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The foes would yield,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Neath blades once brandished high.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But that was then,</div><div style="text-align: center;">When men were men,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And blood flowed through the reins.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And this is now,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sadly somehow,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The men are full of shames.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He stops and stares,</div><div style="text-align: center;">For no one cares,</div><div style="text-align: center;">For what once gave him pride.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He turns away,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And mourns the day,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The day chivalry died.</div>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-64986992365134839822010-01-03T06:45:00.000-08:002010-01-03T07:38:51.946-08:00Bulletproof Smile<div style="text-align: center;">With a gentle scratch we watch,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Watch as the thick, black ink</div><div style="text-align: center;">Seeps, saturates, stains,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Stains a parchment page.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The stain she can't erase,</div><div style="text-align: center;">We watch it run in place.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The ebony liquid pools and sinks.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The parchment drinks</div><div style="text-align: center;">The pen gracing face,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every word, every line,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every couplet, every rhyme.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>listen to the prophecy</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>She: the author. I: the sage.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">We see her every day,</div><div style="text-align: center;">A glorious bloom transfixed</div><div style="text-align: center;">Upon her youthful visage.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We perceive a genuine joy.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We perceive a perfect peace.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And every words she speaks,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And every move she makes,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Would only convey a thorough sense</div><div style="text-align: center;">of satisfaction, fulfillment, and purpose.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">That smile,</div><div style="text-align: center;">That bulletproof smile,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Would anyone question its authenticity?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Those eyes,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Those delightful orbs brimming with joy,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Would anyone imagine them brimming with tears?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And this is the question,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Does imperfection dare critique perfection?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">For in those hallowed moments of the reserved,</div><div style="text-align: center;">When one's mind is quiet,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And fear finds himself unlearned,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I've seen a cocoon woven in bitter tears.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Each fibrous strand forged in the furnace of doubt.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I've seen a colossal tower built in fears.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Brick by brick, and black within,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thick, so thick, and thorns without.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Perhaps it's just a void within.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Perhaps it's just a question begging for clarity.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Or maybe, just maybe, it's the nebulous enigma of a beautiful mind.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Perhaps what I see is an aesthetic perception that has yet to come to term.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Still in its infancy, it knows what it is,</div><div style="text-align: center;">But fears to be exposed to an otherwise unsuspecting world.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So she writes,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The pen to the parchment,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Etching in shallow scratches.</div><div style="text-align: center;">So she writes,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The pen to the page,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Wielding windless words.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>They beg to be spoken.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>They yearn to be heard.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>But they would be satisfied,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>If only to be read.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">So with a gentle scratch I watch,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Watch as the thick, black ink</div><div style="text-align: center;">Seeps, saturates, stains,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Stains a parchment page.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The stain she can't erase,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I watch it run in place.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The ebony liquid pools and sinks,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The parchment drinks,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The pen gracing face,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every word, every line,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every couplet, every rhyme.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I believe in that smile,</div><div style="text-align: center;">That bulletproof smile.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's authenticity is without question</div><div style="text-align: center;">In my mind.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">However, I hear the strike of a match.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I smell the sulfurous sensation,</div><div style="text-align: center;">As spark begets spark begets flame begets fire.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, the smile is real,</div><div style="text-align: center;">But with a dreadful start I watch,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Watch as the hot, blue flames</div><div style="text-align: center;">Kiss, caress, consume,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Consume a parchment page.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The page she can't replace,</div><div style="text-align: center;"> I watch it burn like lace.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The consuming fire whips and whirls,</div><div style="text-align: center;">The parchment curls,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Where the pen once had graced,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every word, every line,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every couplet, every rhyme.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, the smile is real,</div><div style="text-align: center;">But in the gleam of the firelight</div><div style="text-align: center;">I see those eyes.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But is it joy with which the brim?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I perceive a contrast to that smile,</div><div style="text-align: center;">That bulletproof smile.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Not a contradiction, mind you,</div><div style="text-align: center;">But rather a complimentary antithesis.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And as those delightful orbs of aesthetic perception</div><div style="text-align: center;">Watch the words wither and grey,</div><div style="text-align: center;">She's already thought of penning the next one,</div><div style="text-align: center;">And burning the beauty forever away. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-22918137180771668092009-12-17T03:28:00.000-08:002009-12-17T03:30:50.269-08:00Spider in the Window<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 13px; ">Spider in the window<br />Moss upon the stone<br />Fading leaves upon the ground<br />From autumns long ago.<br /><br />Spider in the window<br />Weaving all alone<br />Some strange riddle we've not found<br />With patience sure and slow.<br /><br />In the wooded shadows<br />Moss is on the stone<br />That walls the garden all around<br />So all has time to grow.<br /><br />In the warm summer glow<br />There lying all alone<br />Fading leaves upon the ground<br />From autumns long ago.<br /><br />Spider in the window<br />Spinning all alone<br />Soon your web will be found<br />And both of you will go.<br /><br />In the wooded shadows<br />Moss upon the stone<br />Will be scraped onto the ground<br />'Cause the garden is for show.<br /><br />All the dead leaves must go<br />Away they must be thrown.<br />Fading leaves upon the ground<br />That withered long ago.</span></div>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-5365268934051242912009-12-17T03:24:00.000-08:002009-12-17T03:27:18.768-08:00The Night my Mother Left<p class="MsoNormal">The night my mother left, it snowed, big beautiful flakes that drifted down from heaven in soft patterns. They fell almost as if they were trying to negate the last words she spoke to me as she stormed out the door.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">“Tell your sister I love her, I love her very much, I love her dearly.”</i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>She said those words loudly and clearly. Her voice rang throughout my house. The look in her eyes, clearly vindictive, emphasized the words that she had spoken. The look emphasized the words that were not spoken, the words that left me with an empty gap in my heart. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>She loved me too, right? I was sure she did. Deep down somewhere inside her I was sure she still felt an iota of the love she once held. Mothers always did that, right? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I watched her climb into her car and back out of the garage faster than usual. I watched as she drove off into the night; the snow swirling behind her.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Christmas bells seemed to tinkle in the wake of her departing. I could almost hear them and as I stood there, shocked and dismayed. I could almost hear the Baby Jesus crying in his manger, the same way my heart was crying now.</p>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-60842046069214442622009-12-01T02:22:00.000-08:002009-12-01T02:23:55.977-08:00To Wonder and Wander<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 18pt;"></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Wonder of beauty and wonder of life!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Oh that this sparkle held no strife!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Some sing of spring and some of fall,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Others think but don’t care at all.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Hope of a future and the future of a dream;<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">If its result is none but to beset and scheme,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Where is the purpose that had driven it so?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Why isn’t your heart willing to let go?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Perhaps, God seems distantly here or there,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">And you think that your pain is too hard to bear.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">One moment you relish in the sun’s golden light; <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">You savor its warmth and protection from night.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">But when your world becomes a fragile thing,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">You cease then to trust and have no voice to sing.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The music that once flowed freely from your heart, <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Has lost all its worth, its beauty and art.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Wonder of God and wonder of heaven!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Have we ever known a love so deeply given?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Here within our grasp a truth ever constant,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Are we such fools to ignore it one instant?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Our agony is of our own compromise.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Do we then wonder “Why this demise?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Our shame is of our own wistful desire.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Can we ask of God “Why now this fire?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Wonder of mercy and wonder of grace!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">That from me He would not turn his face!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">God ever worthy and through Him alone,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Can now my blindness His forgiveness atone!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Never before could I ever be free;<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Until Jesus set His perfect eyes on me.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Now in me understanding is clear,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">With God on my side what is there to fear?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style=""> </span></span><br /></p>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-10451636352237830122009-12-01T02:19:00.000-08:002009-12-01T02:21:55.099-08:00The Throne Room of Drama<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Drama</i>… something I never considered myself to be a “queen” of, nor yet even a great lover of… Yet, now, I find myself intrigued, inexplicably drawn to that beautiful feeling of becoming someone else- of allowing myself to become lost in the character and person of one through whom I can express the deepest emotions of the heart. I never envisioned that I would be a part of this peculiar entourage of people, but now that I have entered this realm, my views seem to be transforming… <span style=""> </span>I never thought I would ever admit I am becoming a lover of the court of drama, but, my heart now palpitates with a certain energy at the thought of entering the throne room of drama, presenting myself to the King with all the energy and nervousness of a lowly servant. Before I even enter the throne room, my heart and mind plead for the work of the King’s influence to be seen through my presentation. I have labored; I have meditated on the life of the one whom I am portraying; I have been instructed and taught; and now that I have the opportunity to present myself before the court and the King, I desire nothing more than the King’s approval. He <i>alone</i> is the One Whose approval matters. He has created this beautiful throne room for His glory, and as I enter it, humbly, I am amazed that He would choose to give me this opportunity. Butterflies tremble within my being, my mind overwhelmed with the enormity of this entire production before the King. As I step out into the room, the courtiers, noblemen, and servants seem to fade into a mass of blurred humanity. Instead, I lose myself in the glory of these moments before the King. I expend my energy- allowing every fiber of my being to be caught up in this opportunity before Him. The moments are gone too soon, and I step back, albeit reluctantly, from the throne room, my mind whirling with the exhilaration I still feel. I pace back and forth, waiting for my fellow dramatists to complete the production over which we have labored for so long. Finally, the ending… I re-enter the throne room, along with my fellow servants- for that is truly what we are before the King… I gaze out at the sea of people, their faces are smiling, their expressions are joyous… But, what about the King? I cannot see Him, yet His presence is <i>felt.</i> The people of the court exclaim over the professionalism of our performance, the liveliness of the presentation, the beauty of our appearance… in spite of the praise though, I feel nothing but gratitude. The presence I still feel of the King washes over me as I realize He was here. He <i>is</i> here. Nothing can shake the beauty of this feeling. He has been pleased to give us this opportunity, stretching us, molding us, and now that it is over, I feel that He has grown us- me in particular. My heart is saddened at the thought that our production is finished, never again to be performed in like manner; yet, the sadness is repelled by the thought that the King is presenting me with another opportunity to share, again, in this venue of drama- to be allowed, again, to enter His throne room and to present, again, to the court <i>His</i> glory. The opportunity blooms before me… will I grasp it, allowing myself to once again, be lost in the beauty of the King’s gift of drama?<span style=""> </span></p>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-44370910809682843202009-12-01T00:26:00.000-08:002009-12-01T02:24:29.804-08:00Embracing the End of My Old Self<div style="text-align: center;">I woke in the morning with your head on my chest,<br />Everything was happy, the beauty and the blest.<br />The rays on the panes flooded the room through thick dust.<br />I traced your face with my fingers in thoughtless trust,<br />And then down your perfect profile in selfish lust.<br />I stopped in horror at the base of your tight palms -<br />-Gripping a blade-<br />-Your choice was made-<br />-Now you’ve decided to silence the calms-<br /><br />Your eyes, once closed in peaceful sleep, I see now were merely closed to keep me unsuspecting as I pulled you closer into a warm embrace.<br /><br />I never saw the knife.<br />I never saw your eyes.<br />Now fearing for my life,<br />I turn from all your lies.<br /><br />What have I left undone to let you so close?<br />Once upon a time, I would have cut the nape,<br />Of all that would have held me back,<br />But this time my defenses were down,<br />And you came back to me, yes, you came back to me.<br />Why couldn’t I see that you were aiming for my soul?<br />Just like every other time.<br /><br />…But I trusted you, yes I trusted you…<br />…But I hated you, yes I hated you…<br />…But I loved you, yes I loved you…<br /><br />“Never again, you lied.” I cried.<br />“But here you are once more,<br />Sleeping at my side.<br />I don’t think that I can heal from the wound this time.<br />I have had enough.<br />You will pay for your crimes.<br /><br />I pushed you aside as you slashed for my heart.<br />I ran from the bedroom and down to the cellar.<br />In every mirror I saw your face.<br />In every reflection, your shame and disgrace.<br />I picked up a chair and destroyed my reflection.<br />I grasped a long shard of glass and came back after you.<br />You were out in the garden wilting the roses.<br />You turned to face me with a knife in your hand.<br />You tried to conceal it behind your back.<br />But I knew - This Time, I knew.<br /><br />You came so close to me,<br />With innocence in your beautiful eyes.<br />You offered to try again,<br />And I said no words as I came even closer.<br />You placed your free hand on my shoulder,<br />And put your lips to mine<br />For a second, just a second, I thought,<br />“Maybe this time?”<br />But no. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.<br />Never again. Never again.<br /><br />The look on your face turned from pleasure to shock.<br />You staggered back from me and gave me a hurt look.<br />Your hair fell loose over your eyes, whose sparkle was slowly fading.<br /><br />I caught you in my arms,<br />And gently brought your beautiful body,<br />Down to the bed of the garden.<br />You looked deep into my eyes,<br />As the life blood ebbed from your veins.<br />I thought to pull you close…<br />…For one last time…<br />…And bring your lips to mine…<br />But I merely said,<br />“Dearest, know this,<br />I loved you.<br />I tried.”<br /><br /></div>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-48189575520791829082009-11-21T11:03:00.000-08:002009-11-21T11:12:01.628-08:00Jack of SpadesOne brisk November evening a security guard, Alvin, clocked in for the hundredth time at the hospital. The shift started at 11 o'clock, and he was glad to get out of the cold night air and into the building. Before leaving for work that night, he had watched the evening news cast...now he wished he hadn't. The top story that night had been about a serial killer who had left the whole city on edge...and three doctors in the morgue. All three murders had occurred in the past three days, and all of them were at different medical facilities around the city. The hospital that Alvin worked at was attached to a professional building that also housed doctor's offices, labs, and a large pharmacy. The news story that night had disturbed Alvin, but more than that was the video from the security cameras at all three locations. "The images you are about to see may be disturbing to some viewers. Young children should leave the room." "Young children," Alvin though, "never mind young children!" Watching the film, one could see the doctors working late at their desks. In the shadows something would stealthily sneak up behind them. The screen went black because it was too graphic to show on national television, but one's imagination could fill in what happened next. The screen came back on to show the close-up of a masked face, showing only his hard, black eyes and maniacal smile. In the background the slumped over figure of the doctor was barely visible, and obviously dead. Then the masked man held something up to the camera...a Jack of Spades. He reached up and taped it on the lens. "Alvin!" He jumped as his supervisor shouted his name. "Ah...yeah?" "Ha ha ha! What's the matter...a little jumpy tonight?" His boss was a good natured man with a jolly laugh and even jollier stomach. "Yeah...it's just...something I saw..." Alvin strapped the can of mace to his belt. "Sorry to get you started right into your shift like this, but I saw some weird shadows in the pharmacy just now. I think the night janitor may have left the door unlocked." "Yeah?" said Alvin, recalling the shadows in the security video. "I'll go check it out." <br /><br /> Alvin tested his radio, "10-97." "10-2" came the response. His Mag-lite hung loosely at his side and he kept the pouch that held his mace unbuttoned. His finger reached out as he touched the button for the elevator. "Why does it always take so long?" he thought to himself as he waited for it to rise. The door opened and he jumped, reaching for his flashlight. "Sorry to frighten you," smiled the janitor, "I just finished cleaning the pharmacy...weird place at night, that. Always a sound or a movement in the shadows!" he laughed like a senile old man that had no worries. "Yeah, tell me about it," muttered Alvin. A light sweat began on his forehead. "Man, its warm in here tonight," he thought to himself. He stepped into the elevator and pressed 'G'. Slowly, it made its way from the 8th floor to the 7th, then to the 6th, and then the 5th. Passing the 5th floor the elevator gave a slight shutter and the lights flickered. "900, come in." Nothing. "900, do you copy?" There was a hint of panic, an edge to Alvin's voice as he spoke. Still, nothing. The 4th floor went by. "Oh well, I'm sure its fine. Just a power surge. The lines from the elevator are interfering with the radio signal, that's all." As floors 3 and 2 went by Alvin became more and more frantic, imagining the black eyes of the murderer staring back at him when the doors opened. Finally he was at the ground level. The doors crept cautiously open and Alvin shone his light into the darkness. With every pass of his light, shadows climbed up the walls and flew across the ceiling. "It's all in my mind; it’s all in my mind!" Alvin reassured himself. A noise in the back storage room made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He went into the room and methodically checked every aisle. "No one in here," he remarked out loud to himself. He saw nothing in the back office, so he went into the adjacent janitorial closet. As soon as he was inside, the door slammed shut. He twirled around just in time to see a figure pass in front of the little glass cutout in the door. "Who's out there?! Who's out there?!" Now he was in full panic mode. His stomach rose in his throat and squeezed out his breath. Adrenaline pumped and blood rushed to his head. He tried the handle. It was locked. He grabbed the key ring from his side and his fingers stumbled through each key. First floor key, second floor, pharmacy, closet. His hand shook as he guided the key in the dark towards the handle. The keys slipped from his grasp and hit the floor with a clang. He kicked the door and it gave out. Running in the dark through the office, his foot caught the edge of a filing cabinet and he staggered to one knee, ripping his pants. He kept on running as blood trickled down his leg--but that was the last thing on his mind. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, so he was able to navigate the aisles at full speed. The only thing between him and the elevator door was a display of mouthwash. He knocked it over, and mouthwash splashed all over the floor. He stepped on one of the bottles and his foot slipped out from under him. His chin hit the floor with a thud, and blood gushed, mixing with the minty liquid that had already formed a puddle. He got up and threw himself at the elevator button, breaking his finger as he did it. “Garrrrgh!” He screamed in pain and grasped his hand. The doors opened. “Hello, my name is Jack.”<br /><br /> Alvin woke up in a hospital room two hours later. The blood had stopped gushing from his chin, and he felt a bandage on his forehead, evidently covering a gash that he suffered when he fainted. There was one nurse in the room busily setting out bandages and arranging bottles of pain meds. The doctor stood, his back to the bed, getting ready a hypodermic needle. Alvin flashed back to before he fainted. The doors opened and there stood a man dressed in all black. He had on a ski mask that covered all of his features…all except his eyes and mouth. That was all that Alvin needed to recognize him, however. The masked man’s beady black eyes pierced his own and sent shivers up and down his spine. His smile, so purposeful, so evil, gave him the distinct urge to vomit. Then, he spoke. “Hello, my name is Jack.” “Hello, my name is Jack, Hello, my name is Jack, Hello, my name is Jack!” Alvin screamed, getting progressively louder. He repeated it over and over as he grasped his face, ripping at his bandage and hair, remembering the sheer terror that coursed through his body and caused him to faint. The nurse ran over to his bed and two more came in from the hallway. They grabbed his arms and legs and strapped them to the bed, telling him that it would be ok. The doctor turned his head to acknowledge the commotion, but then went back to his work. Once he had calmed down, the nurses left the room, promising to come back in a few hours. The doctor slowly turned and made his way over to Alvin’s bed. His amiable smile and deep eyes looked slightly familiar. He held up the needle, “Hello, my name is Dr. Jack Spade.”Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-69548262381823498472009-11-19T02:03:00.000-08:002009-11-19T02:04:43.680-08:00Lost in the LimelightA hush falls across an excited crowd as anticipation hangs like a thick vapor in the theatre air. The house lights go down as the director takes his seat near the front. The actor takes his position; and then, a barely audible pop and ring resound as the circuits to and fro the lights engage in electric movement. A gentle hum pervades the air as the bulbs begin to burn and the world of drama is illuminated - totally foreign to this congregation, but oh, so familiar to the actor. The play has begun.<br /><br />The actor's eye adjusts to the brilliance. He perceives minuscule particles of dust floating in the amber and blue rays. A euphoric thrill surges through his body as he loses himself in those lights. He suddenly imagines a universe of light and tiny solar systems of heavenly spheres dancing about - seemingly unaware of their fragile existence.<br /><br />He inhales and watches as the vacuum that is created by the surging of air pulls at so many of the orbs and planets whirling about. All of the sudden, they begin to violently careen into the empty spaces of the limelight and disintegrate as they collide with vicious motion into one another. The colorful eruption that follows by degrees morphs into swirls of dramatic hue. Magenta and violet strands dance together in a shroud of velvet and creamy texture.<br /><br />As his olfactories perceive the chaotic demise of so many systems, he is pleased to find the aura of sent to be rich with pleasant death. That is to say, via the destruction of these spheres, orbs, and planets, an aroma so deep, and thick, and full is created that his head begins to feel light, his extremities seem weightless, and his senses slightly dull.<br /><br />He begins to exhale. He closes his eyes tight as the once oxygen-laden air passes from deep within his lungs and throat and back into the universe of color and light. His face and nose tingle with delight as he replaces those battered spheres into their orbits. And with a gentle puff, he watches them drift away from him, and evolve into beings of grace and beauty - blowing him soft and gentle kisses of farewell as they quietly wave goodbye and leave him to the wondrous reality of the play.<br /><br />The play concludes. The congregation praises with applause. The actor bows his head. The lights go down. The limelight is gone, and the actor, like a phantom, sits at the end of the darkened stage and remembers those tiny planets and smiles.Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-14655753563592359542009-11-03T02:08:00.000-08:002009-11-03T02:10:56.496-08:00My Mother's Song<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JxaBCHR6PD2IOtcR5hl5Moj6kRdCqz4zoE22FwZdRsb0-bZ3uwkI5_D-vZi64Hma7BldltAaO8jwHA_sq_0ile2InwhkTd3KJgnGfhpWjiGYK-FK2cd-T_PiyRZC3gPR7gSXkfJryuE/s1600-h/My+mother%27s+song..jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JxaBCHR6PD2IOtcR5hl5Moj6kRdCqz4zoE22FwZdRsb0-bZ3uwkI5_D-vZi64Hma7BldltAaO8jwHA_sq_0ile2InwhkTd3KJgnGfhpWjiGYK-FK2cd-T_PiyRZC3gPR7gSXkfJryuE/s400/My+mother%27s+song..jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399817567009215346" /></a>Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-80099954086140810782009-11-03T02:06:00.000-08:002009-11-03T02:28:19.553-08:00How Much Farther to Go?I walk this earth alone.<br />How much farther to go?<br />I stray today and gave away.<br />How much farther to go?<br />The world, it fierceness, takes my love.<br />How much farther to go?<br />I kissed the ones I love today; I stabbed them in back.<br />How much farther to go?<br />Oh Death, sweet death, where are you? Come.<br />How much further to go?<br />I long to hear your peaceful song.<br />How much farther to go?<br />I can hardly wait till you take my life.<br />How much farther to go?<br />For I still walk this earth alone.<br />How much farther to go?Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-29696112973564852932009-11-03T01:58:00.000-08:002009-11-03T02:06:08.410-08:00the fleeing manThe trees whisper in the wind. A calm breeze lifts the leaves and settles them back down again. The sunlight is diffused by the grey clouds in the sky, the forest seems especially green. Far in the distance a crow cawed, closer by, the sound of pounding feet came ever closer.<br /> <br />A man came running through this peaceful woods. His eyes were wide with terror. He panted and gasped for air as he ran. His feet bled as he scuffed them on root and rock. He dared to make a glance behind him and saw nothing. But it was coming, he knew it was. It would only be seconds before the beast was on him. He could hear it galloping wildly through the overgrown woods. Its heavy feet were making loud pounding noises on the dirt. He passed a family of overly-large mushrooms, their red caps covered in white spots, he did not even glance at them as they called in his mind. Above him, a large rook circled and swooped, it cawed its death-caw loudly and made known that the man was his once he collapsed. Ahead of the man and to the left stood a tall black tower, its peak rose nimbly in the air and radiated a sense of horror to the man. A small red dot waved and wove about halfway up the dark tower. He ran on, his bleeding feet leaving bloody prints on the forest floor behind him. Ahead of him the trees suddenly grew thicker, he closed his eyes and ran headfirst into the clearing on the other side of the trees. A pristine lake surrounded by trees on all sides. The clear water glistened in the sunlight.<br /> <br />Wait sunlight?<br /><br /> The man looked up, the sun was now brightly glaring in the blue sky. Birds chirped their songs. He looked down at his feet and discovered that they were not bleeding anymore, they were not even cut. The terrible sense of dread that he had felt before was gone. The thing chasing him had disappeared. He turned back and peered up into the sky, the tower was still there, but it seemed less dark now, maybe the sun had a brightening effect on it. He turned and waded into the lake. Its coolness washed over his body. He smiled up at the sky. And from the tower he heard a child laugh.Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-59673302000617511062009-11-03T01:55:00.000-08:002009-11-03T01:58:35.389-08:00Work of WorksA heart that’s pure you won’t despise,<br />O Lord, who made the earth and skies.<br /><br />Why then do I wear such facade?<br />I may fool man, but You are God!<br /><br />And now, I see that my heart’s black,<br />I’m losing ground, my pace is slack.<br /><br />My heart was once aflame for You<br />But now it’s cold and turning blue.<br /><br />Please save me from my wretched self!<br />My spirit’s sick; I need new health!<br /><br />The fellowship I held so dear<br />Will never come again, I fear,<br /><br />Until You work a work in me<br />And make me blind so I can see.<br /><br />The blind man never lost his way<br />When You were all his hope and stay.<br /><br />Let me look only in Your face<br />So I will only see Your grace.<br /><br />The plans You have are not my own<br />So I will trust--don’t let me roam!<br /><br />This life will never be the same<br />When I cling tight and claim Your name;<br /><br />When finally I bear my cross<br />And you consume all of my dross;<br /><br />When I desire heaven’s joys<br />More than this earth and all her toys.<br /><br />Please work a work inside of me;<br />Change my desires by Your decree.<br /><br />You don’t want false obedience<br />Or actions of expedience.<br /><br />You only want my pure motives,<br />So take my thoughts and, like a sieve<br /><br />Please strain me, drain me, of myself<br />And make me pure and free from filth.<br /><br />But please don’t stop until You’re done;<br />Burn all my dirt with Your Pure Sun.<br /><br />With Your Pure Wind come over me<br />And blow away all the debris<br /><br />That crowds my life and fills my mind<br />With junk that makes me lag behind!<br /><br />So work this work of works in me<br />So I can serve, unhampered, free!Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-46659899210630190512009-10-15T03:53:00.000-07:002009-10-15T04:06:06.055-07:00You’re Safer in His Hands (A lesson learned by one who cares too much)(A lesson learned by one who cares too much) <br /><br />It’s hard for me to leave you there;<br />Seems ‘twould be less painful not to care,<br />But let you stray in ignorance and fear<br />Instead of reaching out.<br /><br />For reaching out requires a reaching up<br />To place you in His hands <br />Instead of into mine. <br /> <br />/Once stirred to care,<br /> It’s hard to trust;<br /> But you’re safer in His hands./<br /><br />His hands are strong to save and to keep,<br />To comfort and to guide.<br />They bear the marks that prove His love<br />A love that yearns to hold you close and <br />And never let you go. <br /><br />And now through prayer, I’ve come to be <br />Tuned to feel that yearning, too,<br />And echo it within.<br /> <br />/For once stirred to care,<br /> It’s hard to trust,<br /> But you’re safer in His hands./<br /><br />My hands are weak, uncertain;<br />First devoted, then devoid <br />Of any loyalty.<br />Though well-intentioned,<br />I’ve found that they are prone to drop or to crush<br />That which I love the most. <br />I was not made to hold you safe,<br />But to lead you to the One who can.<br />Yet, I was designed to care about you<br />(though at times the price seems too high).<br /> <br />/For once stirred to care,<br /> It’s hard to trust;<br /> But you’re safer in His hands./<br /> <br />Yet Trust is what He seeks in me,<br />And you as well. And now, I see<br />That, by giving more to care about-<br />More to cherish and hold important-<br />He gives me more to entrust to Him,<br />A chance to see my faith increase.<br />You see, He’s wise in how to work His will in us-<br />To work in me by using me to work in you.<br /> <br />/So, though once stirred to care,<br /> It’s still hard to trust.<br /> I’ll quickly place you in His hands;<br /> For you’re safer in His hands./Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-58247313061720773792009-10-15T03:49:00.000-07:002009-10-15T03:50:59.207-07:00You are Always ThereOnce I was near to you<br />Once did I always love you,<br />but now here I am<br />in misery and anguish.<br />Wishing I could love you again.<br /><br /><br />Once in my darkest moment<br />Once did I see your light<br />It shone so bright that<br />then it dried my tears and<br />lifted all my fears.<br /><br /><br />I always knew you were near,<br />but for fear of shame did I drift away.<br />I felt like you could never look at me again<br />I never wanted you to be ashamed of me.<br /><br /><br />It was then that I realized that you never left my side,<br />but I yours.<br />You reached out your hand to me,<br />but I shoved it away saying, "I can do it myself!"<br /><br /><br />No matter how many times I tried to pick myself up,<br />I kept falling back down.<br />It is then that I take your hand and you pick me back up<br /><br /><br />You picked me up like nothing ever happened.<br />Why? How could one show so much love to a poor,<br />wretched sinner like me? After all I did to you!!<br /><br /><br />"How can you still love me" I asked.<br />He never said a word, but revealed His heart to me,<br />and showed me what unconditional love is really like<br /><br /><br />I then realized my need for repentance.<br />I could no longer hold all the things<br />I was hiding from you.<br />I got down on my knees because,<br />the burden was so great.<br />You said, "Let me share the burden."<br /><br /><br />It was like a weight was being<br />lifted off my back and the chains set free.<br />I never felt so free as that moment.<br />I then said that I never want to leave<br />my first love again!<br />For it is in Him that I see the light!<br /><br /><br />I know you're there!<br />Just shine your light more brilliantly!<br />For it is my darkest hour that I realize:<br />I need you always!<br /><br /><br />Everytime I look to the sky now,<br />I see the majesty of you.<br />Everytime I feel the warmth of the sun,<br />I can feel your arm around me,<br />and know you are there.<br /><br /><br />Everytime it rains, I feel your<br />sadness for all the sin in the world.<br />Including mine. I feel the pain of the<br />world with every raindrop.<br /><br /><br />All the sadness it gives me,<br />makes me all the more want<br />to serve you. For in serving you,<br />is my eternal glory.<br />In you is my true reward.<br /><br /><br />We may try to get all the world's pleasures,<br />but when we realize how worthless the are,<br />we see you in all your glory.<br />Like glasses being put on when we can't see.Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-15502847840320050292009-10-15T03:47:00.000-07:002009-10-15T03:49:06.720-07:00The OneThe emblem of Christianity, shunned by humanity.<br />He saved and died for all,<br />because man ate, and took the fall.<br />Despised by kindred, hated by strangers,<br />this Man was born in a manger.<br />After being ridiculed, whipped, tattered, <br />He hung up high, broken, shattered.<br />It is finished, yelled at last,<br />by this Man, who was nailed fast.<br />Tortured and crucified was He,<br />For His love for you and me.<br />Three days long in the grave, <br />and only Mary was enough brave.<br />He is risen! She yelled with joy, <br />this Saviour, Lord, Man, and Boy.<br />Go ye into all the world!<br />I'll return, my banner unfurled.<br />On this note, He did ascend, <br />but long it took them to comprehend.<br />This Son of the Father, filled with love,<br />Baptized by man, and blessed by a Dove.<br />Enslaved were we, when He came, <br />no more chains! No more the same.<br />Accept Him in your heart today, <br />the Lord, Jehovah, our Yahweh.Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-70246252295241549242009-10-15T03:45:00.000-07:002009-10-15T03:47:10.825-07:00The Hills of WerthWhat are theses vast and verdant Hills of Werth?<br />Where there grazes such beauty and relentless mirth?<br />Why does it seem in its mysterious wonder,<br />That I have roamed before in those hills yonder?<br /><br />It was there on those hills that I had by chance seen,<br />The rolling landscape and the grass so green.<br />I beheld many a gorgeous and graceful flower,<br />And with each breath drank in the awe of that hour.<br /><br />The rays of the sun shone down in such glory,<br />Painting the world gold as if in some story.<br />A breeze so gentle caressed and embraced me, <br />And closing my eyes I felt truly happy and free.<br /><br />Again I viewed before me the Hills of Werth,<br />And there as in a trance I knelt to the earth.<br />My heart was so full and overwhelmed by it all,<br />That upwards to heaven my voice sent its call.<br /><br />Memories came full of my life from the past,<br />Forcing me to realize what I knew wouldn’t last.<br />Those I had known and who they had been<br />Had changed far too much to be the same again.<br /><br />Our love and affection was still real and good,<br />But life was altered and not where we once stood.<br />Life seemed to demand of us more and more, <br />Things we’d never considered or thought of before.<br /><br />Here my thoughts caused me to miss all we were,<br />And here in this present moment the past I prefer.<br />But as the hills and their beauty before me are spread,<br />I pause and think deeply of what future lies ahead.<br /><br />Many wonderful things from these changes have come,<br />And I can always look forward to when we’re all home.<br />All standing here together on this escalated earth,<br />This place we all know and love, The Hills of Werth.Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-2863251585685719942009-10-09T17:36:00.000-07:002009-10-09T17:53:00.845-07:00Don't Worry, I'm Safe Inside my Box.I live in a box.<br /><br />But don't worry! I have friends who live with me. They are the greatest friends anyone could ask for. Any of them will tell you they only have my best interests at heart--they want to keep me safe.<br /><br />There's one of my closest friends, Doubt. I know she really cares for me. It's true she can be negative about who I am; seems like I'm always hear her saying, "You are TOO fat to even think about doing that!" "You will never accomplish this; remember how many times you've failed?" But she only says those things to keep me safe. "Rejection hurts! Better to not try at all," she warns me from her seat guarding my box's door.<br /><br />Then there's Fear. He is Doubt's best friend and always present, but I talk to him the most when an Opportunity knocks on my door. Fear will sneak up behind before I answer the door and whisper in my ear. When he speaks, it seems like his words spread an icy chill through my heart. He whispers, "What if this makes you vulnerable? You'll be weak! What if someone takes advantage of you? Tries to hurt you? What if. . .?" On he goes and I know he's right. Fear wants me safe.<br /><br />After this, I usually sit and talk with Pride, Bitterness, Sloth, and Lust. They are friends that I have known for a long time. Pride will tell me, "My dear, be grateful you didn't answer that door! Imagine how foolish you would have looked if you had said this! What do you think that person would have thought if you had done that?"<br />Sloth agrees and adds, "It would have taken a lot of work anyways. Who has the time? Really, you're better off where you are."<br />"And what is the chance of you working well with that person? She never understood you. No one ever has," Bitterness acidly remarks.<br />"I know what you really want and of course, that Opportunity would have gotten in the way of that. You don't need it. Just listen to me and I will make sure that you have everything you want," Lust promises. "Just stay inside the box and you will live the good life!"<br /><br />So here I am in my box.<br /><br />It wasn't always like this, you know. One day, some time ago, I left my box to meet another friend, Jesus Christ. He told me to leave my box and follow Him. I didn't need my old friends when I was with Him. I was happy to simply listen to what He said, which was different from anything I had ever been told. In Him, I am a new creature! Of course, my old friends never really left, but when I listened to Jesus, His voice was the only one I heard.<br /><br />But Doubt and Fear got hold of me. They told me, "Now, look here! You simply cannot keep living like this. LOOK AT YOU! You're not attractive or witty or smart or funny. Why do you even try to help others when no one wants you!"<br />As they walked me back to the box, Pride complained behind me, "Think of how foolish you look when you witness to someone and they ask questions you can't answer!"<br />"But . . . " I tried to stop them from talking me back into the box. I could hear my Master calling me, but His words were being drowned out by Fear, Doubt, and Pride.<br />"Who deserves your help? When did everyone want you? Who ever helped you?" Bitterness questioned. "Why even try? Another day will do; just rest for now." Sloth added.<br />I feebly agreed with them as we kept getting closer to the box. Lust greeted me at the door. She pulled me in as she remarked, "How could this Jesus be taking care of you? When did He ever give you something you wanted?"<br /><br />I no longer heard Jesus, only my friends. I know that they have my best in mind; at least I think I do. They must! They're my friends! They love me, they want to keep me safe.<br /><br />Jesus still calls my name but Fear keeps me pinned to the wall. Doubt and Lust keep me locked in. Pride and Bitterness try to make me strong and untouchable while Sloth keeps me from trying at all.<br /><br />Who needs Jesus when I have friends like these? All they want is to keep me safe.<br /><br />Safe inside my box.Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-85725150146567541742009-10-09T17:32:00.000-07:002009-10-09T17:34:52.482-07:00SunsetGolden teardrops wet the horizon<br />As the melting sky falls on the trees;<br />Flames of crimson dance in a sea of blue<br />As the evening displays its masterpiece.<br /><br />What rose in the morning<br />In fiery-red<br />Has now on the sky<br />All its beauty bled.<br /><br />In rising to life<br />It strongly burned its shadow less light,<br />And now setting to die<br />Its beauty caresses the early night....<br />............<br /><br />--What of my strength<br />To brightly shine?<br />What will my life display<br />On the day I die?<br /><br />Will my light simply sink far below<br />Life's burning horizon with nothing to show?<br />Or will God's glory light up the trees<br />As I allow Him to show His beauty through me?Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4734639895689358704.post-48428723834382824172009-10-09T17:30:00.000-07:002009-10-09T17:32:14.441-07:00The BallThe symbols crash and drums beat out a pace.<br />Now all join in and never miss a beat.<br />The men approach the girls with pretty face.<br />The couples dance; the homely take a seat.<br />The partners change and girls who thought they’d dance<br />All night are found lacking in sincere charm.<br />Conceited men who thought they had a chance<br />Are left to gawk with looks of sheer alarm.<br />The ball is almost over and I pause<br />When first I see this girl who stands so still.<br />Her dress is plain and merits no applause<br />Yet doubles all the beauties in their skill.<br />We dance, tho late, like no one else before<br />And now I know I could not ask for more.Johnathan Schofieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12682122696599244145noreply@blogger.com2