COME WALK WITH US, DWELL BY OUR SIDE

COME WALK WITH US

Dear God, Holy Father oh hear us now pray

And let us remember this day

That we may e'er serve thee with strength and our might

And do all that's good and right

We'll cry for thy mercy, we'll pray for thy love, 

That pours from the heavens above

We'll praise thee by day and we'll thank thee by night

For all that is good and right.

Jehovah dear savior we'll lengthen our stride

Come walk with us, dwell by our side

Our souls doth now hunger for grace and thy truth

Revealed to us oft in our youth

From kneeling in prayer let us rise and take flight

To find all that's good and right.

Now open to us and please share from thy Word

So that our spirits are stirred

Within us our hearts will burn warm with delight

It's when we do good and right.

Jehovah dear savior we'll lengthen our stride

Come walk with us, dwell by our side

Our voices as one we will fill up the air

With sweetest fair music we'll share

For songs of the heart are just prayers in thy sight

We'll sing all that's good and right.

And all the day long we will try to dispel

All foes of Israel.

Embracing the gospel that gives us our might

We'll love all that's good and right.

Jehovah dear savior we'll lengthen our stride

Come walk with us, dwell by our side

Luke 24:32; Enos 1:4

And they said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the scriptures?

_______________________________

And my soul hungered; and I kneeled down before my Maker, and I cried unto him in mighty prayer and supplication for mine own soul; and all the day long did I cry unto him; yea, and when the night came I did still raise my voice high that it reached the heavens

Ever since I learned my Church was open to receiving entries for new hymns, I have been wanting write one. I was asked to perform a duet (might be a trio) for Sacrament meeting, and decided to write my own song. Tom Christensen is sing with me. I asked him what his favorite scripture was. He gave me the two above. I used those as the inspiration for the poem/hymn.

LA RECETA DE AREPITAS DE YUCA

AREPTITAS DE YUCA

Take two to three large yuca roots
From Winco near the veggies and fruits

Then take them home and wash them good

Peel off the skins 'cause they're tough as wood

Now with a knife cut off their tips

Then use that knife to make cubes or strips

Once into cubes toss them to boil

In one large pot while you prep some oil.

You'll need at least four cups or so

Of oil for fryin' in a pan on low.

There'll be a lot of pops when fried

So just make sure the pan's deep and wide.

Cook down the cubes of yuca, please

Until they're soft but still firm to squeeze

A colander will help them drain

So leave them there while they cool and strain.

Once cool just shred each yuca fine.

Remove from each that thin woody spine.

Now drain again the moisture loose

By squeezing out all the extra juice

Pat dry the pulp with cloth that's clean

Or press it firm through a metal screen

Whatever gets the job done well

Then set aside in the fridge to dwell.

Go gather up your spices now

To give this treat the right kick and pow.

Here's what I like but you can choose--

"Siga tu lengua" follow its cues.

Some garlic salt and onion flakes

Paprika sweet and thyme---a few shakes.

Now grab an egg, beat, set aside.

Cornmeal and flour for that crunch when fried.

This powdered mix will serve for us

A nice and crispy savory crust.

Now add some spice so it's not dull

Mix the flour-meal in a separate bowl.

Now from the fridge take out the paste,

Then add some spices and salt to taste.

Next roll some balls and dust them in

The powdered mix with a coat that's thin.

Then plop them in the beat up yolk

Next in hot grease but don't let them smoke.

The trick to this is keep the oil

The perfect temp so it will not spoil.

Three hundred sixty (F "eff") degrees;

A thermometer make this a breeze.

Each ball let cook upon each side

Removing them when they're crisp and fried.

A napkin is a clever spot

To let them cool 'cause they're piping hot

Let drain the oil from off their shell

Of crispy crust and take in their smell.

These golden treats of yuca flesh

Just eat them Quick! 'cause they're best when fresh.

2 yuca roots

1 Tbsp of onion flakes

1 Tbsp of garlic salt

1 Tbsp of paprika

2 tsp of ground thyme

4-6 cups of oil

1-2 eggs, beat

2/3 cup of flour

1/3 cup of cornmeal

1 tsp of salt (optional)

THE GAME

THE GAME: FOR JERRY

With ball in hand my time to shine 
I drove it down the court
A spin, a twirl, that move of mine 
Just thrilled to play the sport.
I dribbled past their shooting guard
And moved into the key
The way in front was now unbarred,
T'was just the hoop and me.

I laid up for the perfect shot
To move our team ahead
But suddenly there formed a knot
Of building fear and dread
And crept into my heart this doubt
My skills to score were doomed
That's when my mind heard loud this shout
"No way José!" It boomed.

For one brief flash I looked up in
The bleachers way up top
To find my fan, was sure t'was him
The one I still called Pop.
And sure enough I saw him there
Cheering me to shoot!
I filled with hope; gone was despair
My focus now acute.

I turned back to the hoop to find
Their team was rushing in
I drove in hard with shot in mind,
Adding a final spin.
I jumped with all my strength and worth
With ball raised up, aroar.
Then...SMACK!...a hand. Back to the Earth
I fell confused and sore.

The buzzer buzzed...we lost the game!
My insides began to twist
A panic set that I'm to blame
For the shot I missed.
When I thought all hope was gone
Just like the game we faced
A mighty hand I felt upon
My drooping shoulder placed

I turned my watered eyes to see
The loving arm of Dad
I stumbled out the word,--- "Sorry"
Just thinking he was mad.
He lowered from his giant height
And knelt to wipe my tear.
Embraced me with his humble might,
And whispered in my ear.

"The game is never over, Sport.
You've simply lost this win
For ever are you on the Court
Of this life you're in.
Keep shooting for that hoop you yearn.
I promise you this claim:
You'll win the prize that you earn
By staying in the game."

Today we buried my uncle Jerry Conley. As a kid, we would travel every summer to visit our family in Utah. I remember traveling out to Roosevelt to visit the Conley's one winter and sledding down a big steep hill. I am pretty sure I was not gutsy enough to go down it. I knew that I would surely die! But that didn't stop the Conley's! They were way too cool to be afraid of a few broken bones and a mouthful of busted teeth and snow. I always thought the Conley's were cool for three things:
One, they owned a fully metal transformable Optimus Prime
Two, they were always great at sports, and
Three, their dad was Jerry, a funny guy with witty humor, and one of my mom's heroes.

This poem is to remember Jerry. His love of sports and seeing their deeper meaning. His love of family, and never missing their games. His love of his Savior and the lessons he learned from the gospel and the doctrines of enduring to the end. Thank you, Jerry for being a part of my life!

And for the Conley's, whom I love, when life smacks you down with doubts and grief or sorrows you think are impassable hear the words, "No way José...just stay in the game". I know the emptiness never leaves you, but it does become more bearable. That emptiness helps us to remember and never forget. Keep playing your beautiful game!

A LEAF GO RUSTLING BY

RUSTLING BY

I watch a leaf go rustling by

Its cracking veins are parched and dry
The fragile veil of membraned skin
Now fails so easily by the wind.

So isolated from the pile
Its gale torn frame is worn, reviled.
Not like the rest of hardy husk,
But frail and thin, like sun at dusk.

The heat of sun has not been fair
To this old leaf now worn and bare.
Yet still with life it flitters free
Like first the day it left its tree.

It dances round, flies here and there
Despite the thought that it may tear
Upon a bramble, hook or thorn
And left to wilt deplored, forlorn.

But thoughts like these are cast aside
For now's the time this leaf will ride
Those winds of life to where they pour
Round bends and banks 'til there's no more.

THE FOX'S TALE

A long time ago, when the world was just beginning, there lived a very tricky prankster known as Frisky Fox. Now, Frisky Fox loved playing jokes on his best friend, Ready Raccoon. Frisky Fox had a long tail, good for gripping things.

One day when Ready Raccoon was down by the stream fishing , and washing his paws, Frisky Fox decided to steal Ready Raccoon’s fish that he had caught . As soon as Ready Raccoon was looking away, Frisky Fox swiped Ready Raccoon’s fish with his long tail, and ran away. Right as Ready Raccoon noticed that his fish were missing he caught a glimpse of a long, slender tail trailing away in the distance behind a bramble bush. He knew exactly who stole his fish. Frisky Fox.

The next day when Frisky Fox and Ready Raccoon met up at the stream. Ready Raccoon coyly greeted his friend, “Hey ya, Frisky Fox! So, ya know how ya always play tricks on me?”

“Yeah! They’re great aren’t they?” Answered Frisky Fox.

“Of course they are,” replied Ready Raccoon. He continued, “But, everyone can fool me, I am just too foolish to notice. A real prankster could do such better pranks than on me. Take Witty Weasel for example. Now that’s a great prankster! He once stole a whole honey pot right under the watchful nose of Boss Bear. Now that was somethin’!”

“Witty Weasel?!” Frisky Fox said feeling full of hubris. “That oaf couldn’t do half the pranks I can do!”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say any thing,” Ready Raccoon pried. “But if ya lookin’ to out do Witty Weasel, I might just have the best prank ever. But itta require the best prankster in the whole forest ta pull it off.”

“Yes!” Frisky Fox said excitedly. “I’m the best prankster in the forest. I can out prank anybody. What is the prank?”

“I was thinking’ ya should play a big one on King Cougar!” Said Ready Raccoon. “Ya know that silly sheepskin blanket he always sleeps with? The greatest prankster in the forest would be able to steal that right out from under him while he sleeps!”

“Yeah! All right then, I’ll go and pay a visit to ol’ fluffbutt!” Frisky Fox said confidently, for King Cougar did not have a glorious tail like himself, it was a stubby like all the other cats of the forest, like the lynx and the bobcat.

So, Frisky Fox Climbed up the mountain using his tail to pull himself up, until he reached King Cougar’s cave. Frisky Fox snuck in and saw King Cougar asleep curled up with his sheepskin blanket. Using his tail he reached over to grab the blanket, when suddenly King Cougar awoke! Seeing Frisky Fox’s tail above him King Cougar grabbed a hold of it with his razor sharp claws, and ripped half of it off, lickety split! Filled with pain and agony, Frisky Fox fled from the cave as fast as he could leaving a trail of blood behind him. As Frisky Fox raced down the hill, he could hear King Cougar following him. He needed to stop this blood or else there would be no place for him to hide that King Cougar could not track him. He frantically made his way back to the stream hoping to lose King Cougar and wash his bloody tail. At the stream he saw his friend, Ready Raccoon washing his paws for supper.

“Oh, my friend, Ready Raccoon!” sobbed Frisky Fox. “Please help me! King Cougar has ripped off half of my glorious tail, and it won’t stop bleeding!

Ready Raccoon, feeling remorse for fooling his friend into going to King Cougar said, “I will only telly you how to stop the bleeding, if you promise to stop playing jokes on me.”

“Okay, okay!” plead Frisky Fox frantically. “I promise not to play anymore jokes!”

“Use the fluff of a cattail,” Ready Raccoon advised. “Make a big enough bandage for your bleeding tail. Wrap it around the tail, and it will stop the bleeding.

Frisky Fox quickly did as he was told, making a bandage from the cattail fluff big enough for his bleeding tail. Soon the bleeding from Frisky Fox’s tail had stopped bleeding. Unfortunately, the fluff from the cattail stuck onto Frisky Fox’s tail, making it a very fluffy and bushy tail that was stained blood red with a white tip at the end. 

After this incident Frisky Fox never visited King Cougar again. He kept his promise, and didn’t play anymore jokes on Ready Raccoon. King Cougar from that day on, proudly prowled the forest with the captured tail, which he sewed onto his own stubby tail, making all the bobcats and lynxes very envious of his long tail.

And that is how the fox’s bushy red tail came to be.

This was a project for Ambree's class that we worked on together. She came up with the general story wanting to write about how the fox got its tail. Her original piece had it where King Cougar made the fox's tail longer. I help her get to the idea of the cattail fluff.

BRIDGES WE'VE CROSSED

BRIDGES WE'VE CROSSED

Where once there was grief
With strength please replace
For sadness relief
Give peace in its place

We'll never forget
That all is not lost
We'll never regret
The bridges we've crossed

'Cause all is for good
And nothing's for naught
When life's understood
Through lessons it taught

To us send down grace
From powers above
That we might embrace
You fully with love

You've formed us, you've sent us
You've tried us, and proved us
All to transform us, augment us
Apply us, improve us

'Cause we are your prized
We shouldn't feel bad
When we are resized
A lot or a tad

We'll never regret
The price that was cost
And never forget
The bridges we've crossed


This poem is dedicated to my mom. Tomorrow is her birthday. She always was one who liked to learn from her hardships. In all her moments of trial, she never doubted or rebuked her savior. She simply asked, "How can I do better?" I took her teachings about trials and adversity on my mission with me. I would pray in companionship prayer, "Father, give us trials today that we might become stronger." My companion got kind of upset. He said, "Smith, we already have enough problems to deal with. We don't need God sending more." His mom didn't teach him what mine had. Trials are not obstacles in the path. They are the stepping stones at the base of a pyramid. Climb them and you will reach their heights!

So to all that struggle this day. Turn back around to the stressors and problems chasing you. Turn around and stand your ground. Be filled with the Light of Christ, and say to those things you fear, "Bring it, I AM here!"

SONG OF EARTH AND SKY: PART I

SONG OF EARTH AND SKY

(PART 1)

Listen oh ye fair and young!
The tale of Earth and Sky once past.
Its song from cliffs and clouds is sung
A doubtful friendship forged yet fast.

We tell the tale writ in song
When wing and hammer in concert beat.
Korin Ithrik’s earthen throngs
Laid aid at Arudanni feet.

Look up, fair one, in the azure sky
The wing-ed race strong and proud.
Though, t’was a time when they couldn’t fly
Nor claim the home among the cloud.

Sheenova wise the Welkin-mother
Looked down on Regnum long ago.
Commanded there be formed another,
A plume from her began to grow.

A race birthed from a single feather
Plucked from tail of Sheenova’s hind
From Her image they’re formed together
Aruda heirs forever twined

That feather fell from Aruda's throne
Descending down upon a pool
In Jalfast’s waters life was grown
Kravaku first, then Kukkatul.

Sheenova came, descent like a dove
To see Her children she had formed
And give them Law She hewed from Love
With promise they would be transformed.

The Goddess asked to never forget
Speaking to them of faith and trust:
"Ensure the poor that their needs are met
Denying self and turn from lust.

"If you will hark and obey this my law
In faith place at my judgment seat
All will I cause to see you in awe
And gift you wings on winds to beat."

Before their god, the two made this vow
“With all our race!” They shouted loud.
“Sheenova, please to our race endow
The gift of flight above the cloud!”

On Jalfast's shores together they made
A humble nest of reeds and clay
To harbor safe the eggs which they laid
In thoughtful care wait for the day,

A brood they'd raise with wings tinted gold
And 'pon these chicks a nation laid.
For this is how the story is told
From hen to chick so vows won’t fade.

....to be continued....

A bit of explanation. Like Galilee, My Home and a few others, this poem was written when I was helping create a world for our Roleplaying Campaign, called Regnum. The world was inhabited by various races. One of which was the Arudanni, a bird-man. They were supposedly created by the goddess of the sky, Uwa, who they called Sheenova. When she visited her Arudanni prophets she took the form of a massive mythical Aruda, sort of like a middle eastern thunderbird. The story is the inkling beginning of an epic poem that tells the story of a union made between this bird-man race and the Dwarves, which are lead by King Korin Ithrik.

The pool of Jalfast is a sacred pool that sits at the base of Mount Skyfast.

I wanted to post this poem for two reasons. I wanted to revise it. There were some areas where the rhythm got sort of choppy. Second, I wanted to continue this poem. After all, it was supposed to be an epic.