R. K. Hart Poems

It's not the knowing, it's the doing that's hard.
It's the first step, not the first yard.
It's having the strength to do the right thing.
That's what makes a man a pauper or king.
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My old dad had many stories he loved to tell.
As a child these stories held me in their spell.
Mostly they contained a corrugated shearing shed,
Or a boxing contest with shots to the head.
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She might be the one, who stands outside theatre grand,
Waiting for the wealthy with ribboned violets in hand.
Her clothes hand me downs from a mother long gone,
She may be the one to raise my heart to sing its song.
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She played among chocolate and silver walls,
Her music was the kookaburra's calls.
He played among walls wool and wheat,
Where the Riverina grass is sweet.
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Pretty little eyes, staring back at me.
Take me away to enchanted lands.
My sweet little angel, love me forever.
I'll love you still.
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Little did we understand those things ahead, when my love and I first did meet.
Of snow white sand and foaming water lapping at our feet.
And sunny days searching for that treasured shell.
We roamed the beach, lovers, me and my best pal.
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The story of Rachel is a story of great love,
A story shaped by our Heavenly Father above.
A story of great mystery,
A wonderful story of biblical history.
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When two hearts first take flight,
The question is always asked will it last or end as night.
These are my words as an arrow is true,
This, my love is my promise to you.
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Meaning Jehovah Exists or Firm.
The son of Obed and father of David, grandson of Boaz and Ruth, and an ancestor of Christ [Ruth 4: 17,12].
Jesse had eight sons and two daughters by different wives [1 Sam.17: 12-14,25].
Isaiah speaks of "the stock of Jesse, " a phrase indicating from Jesse the Messiah would come.
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There is a glint in her eyes,
A glint that discloses her lies.
It is not lie of commission,
But a lie of omission.
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