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America, Look Up

The importance of America returning to Christian principles and Traditional Family Values

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Poetry

Downfall to Grace


Downfall to Grace – By Bryan Ridenour

A light appears in formless void,
A masterpiece of God’s own breath.
Hope springs to life and all is good,
‘Til man rebels and enters death.

A garden spot pre-planned by God,
A place for mankind’s birth from dust.
Plenteous garden, bountiful delight,
One tree denied, to obey a must.

Harmonic peace, mankind and creature,
Evening walks with Holy God.
The Milky Way and constellations,
Pathways where the angels trod.

No weeds to pluck or thorns to prune,
No fear of dark or fevered brow.
A test put forth from God’s creation,
A choice to make is proffered now.

The serpent’s guile, man’s tempting snare,
The fruit enticing wanton eyes.
Taste forbidden, truth forgotten,
Paradise lost, a swallowed lie.

Homeless now, despairing couple,
The naked truth they now must face.
The garden’s glory bleak and faded,
All hope is lost…No! ‘Tis God’s grace.

A sacrificial skin to cover,
Faultless blood for mankind’s sin.
A picture of Christ’s blood atoning,
Paradise found now once again.

To Whom a Rose is Due


To Whom a Rose is Due

by Bryan Ridenour

B’side laughing brook, ‘neath yon willow tree,
There flourishes a rose quite exquisite
A glorious red, one’s breath doth take,
Its splendor, a couple did visit.

The boughs of the willow, guard blooming delight,
From those seeking nature’s repose.
But one day a man with his lady beside,
Took refuge, discov’ring the rose.

A beauty so rare, none else can compare,
Carnelian blush, aglowing.
Admiring the bloom, in the safe willow’s tomb,
A masterful gift unfolding.

Examining the petals, the stem, and the thorns,
Incomparable, flawless in form.
Slipping out from the tree, in the cool eve’ning breeze,
A commitment of love now is born.

The man dropped to his knee, and with one simple plea,
Begged her hand in a marriage endeavor,
With an affirmative kiss, oh the joy, oh the bliss,
They would now spend their whole life together.

Now the man knew in truth, that the most comely of flow’rs,
Strolled beside, and for her he did fall.
Sprinting back to the tree, he dropped down to one knee,
Picking the rose for the fairest of all.

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