Beauty Midst The Darkness

"In a world that's in a huge mess, we need to love more and squabble less."
The poet, author

The greatest beauty is a changed life,
a loving heart, and a noble mind.

Rhyming article.

Beauty Midst The Darkness

Midst all the evils of war (or should I say warmongering, actually), and its insanity, that cruel suffering thus inflicted on humanity, that destruction to our planet that’s growing alarmingly, those corrupt and bought politicians and that power seeking clergy, that sickness that’s so apparent in today’s society, that sleep and joy robbing criminality, that blind imbalance of the political left and right, that racism and bigotry that ill's seen to ignite, there’s still that beauty midst the darkness that’s often lost sight of, but everywhere,
like those people who love, those people who care, those beautiful sunsets at the end of a still warm day, that prettiness of Nature’s intoxicating bouquet, that rainbow seen when hosing the garden, or midst an Autumn showery day, that beautiful waffling melody and voice that sings in harmony, that kindly word of empathy or sympathy, that morning chorus heard from tree to tree, that heartfelt plea on someone’s behalf, that thoughtful smile or affirming laugh, that encouraging little message that reassures, that “truly sorry” that someone’s hurt cures, that unspoiled tender affection and intimacy, that outstretched arm that raises some fallen one without being condemnatory, that pleasure that comes with any yummy first bite, that warm drink by the fire on a Wintry night, that pleasure found in riding an e-bike, that sound of little ones at play, that pleasant  coming together of family for a loved one's birthday, that joy over a bargain found, and that inviting friends around —
yes, midst all the false narratives, the deceit, trickery and lies, that errant religious behaviour and teaching that also in the face of truth flies, that wastage of soldiers and that murdering of innocent lives, that spirit of revenge that has many out with the knives along with that vain ego and bull-like ambition that so many drives, those self-serving billionaires who’re pulling the strings of this world we’re in, those leaders who’re lacking integrity and whose backbone is weak and thin, that lining of the pockets of the rich whilst holing the pockets of the poor, that overuse of our planet’s resources in order to rebuild infrastructure and homes demolished by war,
there’s still those prepared to stand and die for what they rightly believe in, those whose selflessness steps aside so that others can win, those who tend the sick, whisper a prayer, or needed groceries bring, that hint of Summer that comes with Spring, those who take on the bullying giants of this world who think they’re beyond reach, those who peace, harmony, human rights, free speech and democracy fight for and preach, those who lay their lives down so that others may live, those who though short themselves, still generously share and give, those who wouldn’t think to wound or kill, or inflict any ill, those who humanitarian services are involved in, those who sow seeds of kindness, and who via love, hearts and minds seek to win (for that’s where change is needed, and where changes begin), those songs that we love to sing, and there’s still romance in the air, and those wedding bells that ring,
and hence that beauty midst the darkness, that candle in the wind, so to speak, given certain forces are threatening to blow it out, and that ill ends seek, but  beauty holding its ground, and why it’s still found, though only in loving hearts and minds, that natural beauty of Earth that one still finds, hence that light that’s still glowing, that goodness that’s still flowing, evil having had too much say, selfishness having got in the way, but not having infected nor captured those loving hearts and minds, which one still finds —
yes, that beauty midst the darkness that’s found in both nature and Nature.

By Lance Landall

Nothing, absolutely nothing, will change this world
but changed hearts and minds, which the criticalness
of character underlines.

Goodness

Let’s make GOODNESS great again, and not some country,
Because it’s only PEOPLE that make a country,
And if the people aren’t good, nor is that country,
Even if a pretty and prosperous country,
All why it’s the HUMAN factor we focus on,
And thus not any flag we wave, nor cap we don,
But what is WITHIN us, that HEART and MIND of ours,
And whether to right or wrong our behaviour bows,
Our thinking too, because as we think, so we are,
A destructive asteroid or a shining star,
And our WELL-BEING based on goodness, not what we’ve got,
Because take away goodness and we’re left with what,
But that which isn’t human, just that flag or cap,
Which in the wrong setting won’t aid, but simply sap,
Mere patriotic shallowness, pride before a fall,
Thus making GOODNESS great again being the RIGHT call.

By Lance Landall





Little Flower

How do you keep smiling, little flower? — midst all those weeds I see,
Which threaten to choke you out, competing for the same territory,
And which hardly smile like you, except for that fake attempt of theirs,
Via those yellow and white thistles that hardly get the same stares,
And no wonder, given all their bother, and their prickliness too,
Which hardly engenders admiration, little flower, like you,
And given your courageous stand, they just choking and smothering,
Rather than allocating thoughtful space and kindly mothering,
But such not their thoughtless way, and they hardly pictures of beauty,
Like those pleasant petals of yours, all spritely and on duty,
Full of appeal, yet jealously encroached upon, as if to say,
“Get out the way,” when they’re the intruders, at the end of the day,
And all why I'm asking, how do you keep smiling, little flower? —
Midst all the ugliness and meanness, day after day, and hour,
Which means all the world to us, because you’re an inspiration,
A wonderful, colourful, uplifting and stoic creation.

By Lance Landall





No Greater Beauty

There’s no greater beauty than that of a loving soul,
Whose kind way is like that of the needle to the pole,
Whose heart and mind are sound, free of malice and cruelty,
And how midst the darkness they reveal the heavenly,
Reveal no greater beauty, thought and care their hallmark,
And thus they just like a glowing candle in the dark,
A blessing wherever they are, wherever they go,
Because the very best of humanity they show.

By Lance Landall





Muscles Grow With Resistance

We don’t like upsetting trials, but look at wind-tossed trees,
Those frantically waving branches that one oft sees,
Which we marvel at given how they don’t snap, but hold fast,
Still hanging in there despite that brutal wintry blast,
And having been strengthened by their exposure to such,
Unlike those weak trees that haven’t suffered near as much,
Thus more inclined to topple, or have a branch break,
And hence why over such, more thoughtful time we should take.

By Lance Landall

Merrily, Merrily

If beauty came in a spray can, I would carry it with me,
Spraying here, spraying there, until everything looked lovely,
And thereby, I soon leaving a trail of beauty behind me,
To the left and to the right of me, even ahead of me,
So that everything around me would grow creatively,
So that everything around me would glow amazingly,
Any ugliness disappearing with each press, and you know what?
I would spray it all over myself, tempted to use the lot,
But no, I’d leave some for you, not that I’m saying you’re ugly,
But that I’d simply enhance you, you thus looking more snugly,
Our appeal having grown, just like everything around us,
But then again, it could be a problem given all the fuss,
And therefore, perhaps it better for me to spray more wisely,
Thus not going quite so far, or might you disagree with me?

By Lance Landall

Streaky Little Trickling Tear

Streaky little trickling tear,
Please tell me why you are there,
Given its so sad to see,
Caused by pain that shouldn’t be,
Hence that deep concern I feel,
And why I wish I could heal,
For such is too often seen,
This old world so cruel and mean,
And hence why I’m reaching out,
My belief in love devout,
And more care there needs to be,
Hence my heartfelt sympathy,
So please, tell me why you’re there,
Streaky little trickling tear,
So I too, your pain may bear,
And some hope and comfort share.

By Lance Landall





Midst Life’s Difficulties

In this world of hurt, criticism, doom and gloom,
Encouragement and praise should be given more room,
So many in need of such, and such good to share,
For uplifting others is how we help them bear,
Though encouragement and praise profiting us too,
For midst life’s difficulties it helps us to get through,
And thus we better able to help others cope,
And nothing lifting more than the presence of hope.

By Lance Landall





Our Signature

We all have a signature that we leave behind,
Something that each hour or day we have somehow signed,
A character trait that reveals our heart and mind,
And thus whether with what’s good or not we’re aligned,
Though hopefully with nothing but good our trail’s lined,
And by which, a goodly example others find,
And given too, that via our hallmark we’re defined,
And whether this way or that way we are inclined,
And whether too, love and goodness are intertwined,
Thus each day beautifully filled, lovingly designed.

By Lance Landall

Stargazing

Twinkle, twinkle — I know, you’ve heard it before — little star,
I love how you twinkle so intriguingly from afar,
Though that is, when the sky hasn’t clouded over, for then
One can’t see you merrily twinkling away until when?
And that’s a shame, because you brighten up a dark old sky,
Are more pretty than that solo moon, and why with joy I sigh,
Because even when there are power cuts, you’re still twinkling,
Though I oft wonder if you’re mischievously winking,
And if like you, I’d twinkle too, if I kept on blinking.

By Lance Landall





Mind Those Rooms

Imagine people’s lives as if a room, with a light switch,
And whose precious door of life we may enter, and of which
We flicking that switch, thereby making their room bright or dark,
Their life, that is, and thus how we leave our personal mark,
Good or not good, and if it’s not good, we spoiling their space,
A space that we have no right to spoil, but only to grace,
To only lighten and not darken, and given that they
Could darken our room, and how would we feel, what would we say?
And hence why we should mind those rooms, those personal spheres,
And given that most have more than enough struggles and cares.

By Lance Landall

The Beauty Of Humour

Oh yes, there can be beauty in humour, wholesome fun,
Which helps scatter the darkness with its uplifting sun,
And hence those big smiles, that laughter, which can ricochet,
Bouncing from wall to wall, having its delightful say,
And that happy spirit growing by the minute or hour,
Those fired up endorphins exercising their power,
Until one lies exhausted from all the energy,
That mirth that bathes the body in positivity,
Whereby one’s better able to deal with life’s issues,
Not needing to call as regularly on tissues.

By Lance Landall

The Difficult Donkey

Once upon a time, a long time ago, like ages ago,
There was a very difficult donkey who was very slow,
And thus, no matter what someone did, he just wouldn’t hurry,
Not even for his frustrated owner, a man called Murray,
Who tried begging and scolding him, even bribing him, but no,
That donkey simply took his time, and no matter the work flow,
And so, Murray decided to sell him, put him up for sale,
The price much reduced, of course, but a happy end to this tale,
Because the new owner had another donkey, a female,
A darling little donkey who was soon seen wagging her tail,
And what do you know — yes, that slow donkey stepping up the pace,
Their shared yoke sharing the load, thus life much easier to face,
And so it is with us when someone shares our load, and hence why
I just had to share this tale — so go on, have a lovely cry.

By Lance Landall





Where Love Decreases

Where love decreases, ill and evil soon rise,
Until, love altogether ceases, then dies,
And this all why love should be first and foremost,
And the very essence of all that we toast,
Thereby avoiding aiding ill or evil,
Thus only engaged in what is sound and well,
And lest love decrease, and ill and evil rise,
The latter resulting from what isn’t wise,
But choose we do, and why very soon is seen
One or the other taking over the scene,
And if it’s ill and evil, then we’re in strife,
And we ARE, given all that taking of life,
That increase in warmongering that we see,
And that sharp increase in criminality,
Love decreasing, and ill and evil rising,
And thus that sad outcome hardly surprising,
And how love altogether ceases, then dies,
And why right now, friend, it needs to quickly rise.

By Lance Landall

Something Funny

Please make me laugh, because I’m tired of all the doom and gloom,
When only brightness and not darkness should fill up a room.
Yes, I want to be made to fall off my chair with laughter,
Knowing humour helps one live more happily ever after.
And so, please say or do something that’ll make the sun appear,
Scattering dark clouds with happy buckshot, and while you’re there,
Fill my face with laughter lines, for such will compliment me,
Unlike those frowny wrinkles that should never really be,
And why I’m seeking something priceless, but don’t tickle me,
Unless you tickle me pink, that is, with something funny.

By Lance Landall

Otherwise Known As LOVE

The burdens some carry they carry alone,
Lip service and platitudes much like a stone,
And so they suffer, though in need of a friend,
Someone who’ll last the distance and kindly tend,
Not just there for a while, but many a day,
Knowing when to speak, or nothing at all say,
But just being there, showing it with their eyes,
Feeling it with their heart, sending inner cries,
Displaying compassionate affection, which
Can act like a soothing balm, or needed stitch,
Holding them together, showing thought and care,
Otherwise known as LOVE, which we’re meant to share,
And knowing same burden could come our way too,
And how would we feel if the same we went through?

By Lance Landall





The Orchid

“Orchids?! They can’t grow outside,” you hear people say,
When I’ve proved them wrong, and why I say, “Come my way,”
For there in my garden is proof, I’m glad to say,
An orchid enjoying another sunny day,
Though not welcoming wintry blasts that come its way,
But it still there, though in breezy wind seen to sway,
And no doubt wishing that it was a nicer day,
But there you are, it can be done, despite what some say,
A lesson of sorts, which I thought that I’d convey.

By Lance Landall

A Serious Business

You know, laughter’s a serious business — TRULY —
Something that’s very healthy emotionally,
Something that’s very good for us physically,
'Cause it cheers us up, which leads to longevity,
Such positiveness and brightness good for the body,
Hence those endorphins that act like a hot toddy —
Oops — Oiling an existing sense of humour, clearly,
Which makes us more appealing, interestingly,
Even a human icebreaker, actually,
Or a barrier dismantler, quite possibly,
And there's a lot to laugh at, like us, quite frankly,
So let’s take laughter a lot more seriously.

By Lance Landall

A Little Seed

Little seed — oh, how you must struggle and toil,
Pushing your way through the darkness of the soil,
And it taking time, hence you not seen nor heard,
Even endangered by any pecking bird,
Or maybe a kitten, busy hedgehog too,
Digging or scratching so near or above you,
But there you are in that darkness that's below,
Until with a surge and one final last shove,
You emerge into the bright sunlight above,
Thus springing from that darkness you've left below,
A botanical beauty that's now on show,
You only having needed some time to grow,
A little seed, once in that darkness below.

By Lance Landall







Nighttime Goings-On

I slowly eased myself out of bed, edged my way down the hallway,
Being careful not to make a sound, and midst the moonlight’s ray.
My senses on high alert, minding things in the way,
A little more light coming from the room where the answer lay.
My quest a personal mission, a need I had to fulfil,
The other occupants snoring, the air outside warm and still.
I knew I was taking a risk, but I just couldn’t hold back,
Aware if caught there’d be a right commotion, serious flack.
I then entering that room, aware of the next step I’d take,
And there it was, beauty midst the darkness, a cream-topped piece of cake.

By Lance Landall

Standard poem.

When You Hurt The One You Love

When you hurt the one who you love, you can hurt yourself too,
Because that damage you did to them, can kick back at you.
And thus that precious love that they may have once had for you,
Considerably less, and hence that scar that can show too.

Yes, you may well still have them, but they not totally there,
Hence that lessened affection, given you’re not near as dear.
And thus you forever aware of the pain you caused, which
Leaves deep regret, an inner sadness, and there no “Off” switch.

And hence how you hurt yourself too, love oft lost by degree,
And sometimes, in some relationships, it’s lost totally.
You thus fortunate that it hasn’t totally gone west,
But some painful distance only, which still won’t let you rest.

No, not if you still love them, desire their devotion too,
Though your devotion having strayed, and how things went askew.
A tragedy too oft repeated, lesson learnt too late,
And how the love of a loved one can even turn to hate.

And there lies greater sadness, because hate poisons the soul,
Nursed pain bad enough, but hate digging an even bigger hole.
Best we count our losses, and move on to where healing lies,
As much as it can, that is, and lest even more than love dies.

By Lance Landall





Standard poem.

Three Beautiful Words

Three beautiful words: Forgiveness, reconciliation and restoration,
Acts, actually, that can bring much beauty to any ugly situation;
Damaged relationships, individual or collective, though it takes two,
Both partners, or both sides, working together — that is, if they have a mind too.

It all coming down to hearts, often not right in the first place, and hence why here,
It’s those hearts that need changing — surgery — or same troubles will just reappear.
All why second marriages often don’t work out, just the situation changed,
Not those hearts, or that heart, and why so many couples simply remain estranged.

We having a tendency to throw things out once damaged, thus not repairing them,
And so it is with relationships, where rather than forgiving, we condemn,
Walking away, holding grudges, forever talking about it, sad to say,
Which only poisons us within, and we, not having explored a better way.

We needing to listen more, to strive more, exercising human decency,
Taking blame or criticism where it’s due, aware of one’s humanity;
In other words, our own faults and failings, which may well be contributing here,
And hence that need of reasoned dialogue, behaviour that’s mature, kind and fair.

By Lance Landall

The Path Of A Loving Hero

Dear concerned one, aware of the burdens of others,
That cruel suffering of fellow sisters and brothers,
Which has you really feeling for them, thinking of them,
And why the cruelty of many, you strongly condemn,
And despite coming under attack yourself, dear me,
’Cause you’ve a right to be outraged, angry at evil,
Those callous words and acts, or that warmongering ill,
And the latter being where the innocent they kill,
And via such, their bloody cup of iniquity fill,
But whatever the ill or evil may be, you stand,
Speak, act, on behalf of those struck by cruelty’s cold hand,
Knowing you could be next, and that ill is not love,
Hence your warm heart, even your justice wearing a glove,
Knowing outrage should be restrained, lest you yourself err,
Forfeiting the moral high ground, which but you will slur,
And why you’ve chosen the path of a loving hero,
Kindness and compassion your way, for one thing you know,
We’re either a friend of humanity or a foe,
And you a friend of your fellow sisters and brothers,
All why you’re always looking out for others,
So may blessings follow you, and a protective hand,
For love is your banner, great and selfless is your stand.

By Lance Landall







Moonlight Serenade

The shadowy figure made his way in the night, the only observers being alley cats and the moonlight, and hence that almost ghost-like appearance, and he receiving no interference, all being in their cosy beds and fast asleep, thus his stealth giving no one reason to peep.
His gloved hand held a leather case, a woolly scarf partially covered his face, and he walked at a somewhat urgent pace, only the odd lamplight giving him away, he making his silent yet hurried way, a slight breeze teasing his tawny hair, and a little coolness in the air.
He turned down another street, sometimes glancing behind him, he very nimble on his feet, quick of limb, and on a mission, obviously, something of a secret nature, seemingly.
He stopped at number twenty eight, quietly opened the old rusty gate, and made his way towards the door from which someone peered expectantly, and rather excitedly.
He entered the dwelling, case in hand, all as planned, and there in the quiet of the night, and romantically defused light, and in the presence of she who he'd come to see, he clicked open the case, delight all over her face, for there, copies of original songs, metamorphosed into reality:
I’ve Got A Girl In Kalamazoo.
In The Still Of The Night.
In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning.
In The Misty Moonlight.
In The Mood.
Tea For Two.
Lollipops And Roses.
A String Of Pearls.
Dancing In The Dark.
I Get A Kick Out Of You.
It Had To Be You.
Just The Way You Are.
I Only Have Eyes For You.
Can't Help Falling In Love.
Love Me Tender.
A Fine Romance.
At Last.
Unforgettable.
Yes, beauty midst the darkness, and might there be a part two?

By Lance Landall

A dull looking book may contain a great story.
A rough exterior may hide a gentle heart.
A stray dog may make a loyal friend.
A rundown house may house beautiful people.
An unattractive person may have a loving soul.
An unassuming website may contain a wealth of information.
A bad start may have a good ending.
A change of plans may result in a saved life.
A loss of something may result in a greater gain.
An unfortunate clash may lead to a better understanding.
A forced redundancy may result in a better job.







Handkerchief

Hanky, Hanky, officially known as "Handkerchief,"
Your handiness not just for noses, but there midst grief,
Dabbing at moistening eyes, or wiping tears away,
And then there’s that sweat it dabs on a hot Summer’s day
Or those glasses that it cleans, that make-up it wipes too,
And even that nose it covers when smells upset you,
Or me, and that cut it’s held against, no plaster in view,
And thus you such a handy thing, and lest I forget,
I've seen things wrapped in you, like a kind of safety net,
Oh, how very handy you are, and yet tucked away,
Humbly unassuming, but at the ready each day,
Not a kerchief, nor a bandana, but "Handkerchief,"
And your real necessity, more than just my belief.

By Lance Landall





Law

We either keep the law because we want to or have to,
Which reveals our character, whether it’s sound or askew,
And why it all comes down to one's heart and mind, and thus we
Doing things willingly or grudgingly, effectivity,
Legally or illegally, openly or secretly,
Thereby displaying unworthiness or integrity,
Bearing in mind that love and goodness act responsibly,
Thoughtfully, ethically, sensibly and maturely,
And law being a necessity, protective red line,
And thus those breaking the law deserving of any fine,
Or imprisonment, ’cause what’s yours is yours, what’s mine is mine,
Be it our property or ourselves, as assault’s a crime,
All why upholding the law, we should take seriously,
For our sake and others, the well-being of humanity,
But mostly ’cause we’re law-abiding, a good citizen,
Sound of mind and heart, and not someone who’s in rebellion,
But someone who’s into right-doing, goodness and soundness,
Someone who keeps the law because of their moral goodness,
Yes, someone who would always uphold the law regardless,
Someone with love in their heart, not an inner emptiness,
But rather, someone who reveals beauty midst the darkness.

By Lance Landall







It's Tough Being Mortal

Oh, if only there was a shop for body parts,
Where one could find refurbished arms, legs, brains and hearts,
Or body parts that were still in good condition,
And that would defer visits to a physician,
Or for that matter, even need of a surgeon,
Which would certainly see such a business burgeon,
Providing things weren’t too dear, and that there were sales,
And a great range for discerning males and females,
All of which could keep one going, or for longer,
And thus one feeling so much fitter and stronger,
But sad to say, there isn’t such, and hence that crutch,
Or whatever else that aging people might clutch,
Or those who’ve suffered some disabling injury,
Whatever’s seen to bedevil humanity,
Or that has one hobbling or shuffling merrily,
I don’t think, but without those shops with body parts,
We’re simply left to nurse our arms, legs, brains and hearts.

Drat!

By Lance Landall

Designed To Love

We’re designed to love, all why we have a heart, and
All why we feel, display kindness, or make a stand,
Which leads to good health and happiness, and all why
Love spurned leads to ill health, and how within we die,
Rejecting love for what, hate, violence, cruelty? —
The way of a fool, for such works against us, and
Thus robs of joy, and how in trouble we can land,
Because we’re acting contrary to what was meant,
Leaving a pungent odour rather than love’s scent,
All why it’s best to do what we were designed for,
And given what goes ’round comes ’round (as if a law),
So hopefully in your life, friend, that will be love,
Blessings surrounding you, and coming from above.

By Lance Landall

The Valley Of Beauty

Have you been to the valley of beauty where one sees,
flowers of forgiveness,
shrubs of patience,
trees of integrity,
fields of hopefulness,
ponds of tolerance,
lakes of honesty,
wetlands of respectfulness,
streams of loving concern,
rivers of openness,
banks of courageousness,
bridges of reconciliation,
paths of gratitude,
lanes of goodness,
gorges of humbleness,
waterfalls of affection,
taverns of cheerfulness,
shops of charity,
markets of generosity,
homes of friendliness,
schools of wisdom,
chapels of truth,
mills of creativity,
wells of open-mindedness,
playgrounds of humour,
lawns of tenderness,
gardens of fairness,
fences of prudence,
gates of mercy,
lampposts of loyalty,
railways of courtesy,
tractors of perseverance,
ploughs of kindness,
haystacks of positivity,
crops of compassion,
orchards of humbleness,
farms of conscientiousness,
barns of empathy,
Signposts of right and wrong?
In other words, character beauty.

By Lance Landall







Sleep

Sleep’s such a busy affair, one caught up in dreams,
Or tossing and turning for ages, or so it seems,
Pulling the blanket this way or that way, and the sheet,
Or adjusting the pillow, which can leave one quite beat,
But such is how it is, thus one working at night too,
And why come the morning, one feels more sleep is due,
And more so given visits to the loo, one, two, three,
But who’s counting, or is it sheep? — yes, busy, busy,
And all that snoring, which uses more energy,
Or mutterings, which one hears of, eventually,
Though not meaning to disturb, but wanting to rest,
And when one does drop off, it’s morning, as you’ve guessed,
And why I say, that sleep is a busy affair,
And hence that dead on ones feet look, and ruffled hair,
When all one wants is some relaxing sleep, but sadly,
It’s busy, busy, busy — so no, today I’m not free.

By Lance Landall

Humans Are Amazing

Yes, humans are amazing, ’cause there’s so much they can do,
Like riding a bike with no hands (though mother said not to),
Like putting a jumper on while slipping on slippers too,
Like eating an ice-cream while steering (which one shouldn’t do),
And that’s not all, ’cause they can talk with a mouthful as well,
Watch TV while they much, and a tummy that’s full, still fill,
Or sing while having a shower, scratch while having a shave,
Though give them a cell phone, and oh dear, things start to get grave,
They totally glued, unable to do another thing,
And why one may want to grab it, and out the window fling,
In their best interests, of course, but hey, I’ve gone off course, and
Haven’t mentioned how they can cleverly use either hand,
And I mean, at the same time, but I’m rabbiting on here,
So, observe for yourself, while at the same time grabbing a chair,

Well done!

By Lance Landall

A Light

Truth is beauty midst the darkness, a light,
Which certain people want hidden from sight,
But truth needing to be out in the open,
Lest the deviousness of falsehood win,
And via its lying, lead people astray,
Which into the hands of evil will play,
And why we need to check what people say,
And even what we see with our own eyes,
Lest deception catch us by surprise,
Because what appears so, may not be so,
All why due prudence and thought we should show,
Lest we help bury truth, thus guilty too,
Because it’s all about facts, not ones view,
Hence why we should have a love for truth, and
Thus on the side of right be seen to stand
(Beacons truth can shine from), showing the way,
Thus guiding well and not leading astray,
Truth always the truth, recognised or not,
Denied or not, which discernment can spot,
Yes, that beauty midst the darkness, a light,
One revealing what’s true, sound, good and right,
And conversely, what’s not true, sound, good or right.

By Lance Landall

Only Good There

If hearts had to get a warrant of fitness too,
I wonder if ours would fail, and what would we do,
For such would need a different kind of workshop,
One where solid restoration would never stop,
But where improvements were ongoing night and day,
Thus working on whatever we might do and say,
And where and when, so that nothing would let us down,
We thus back travelling with a smile and not a frown,
Knowing all is well, thus having that peace of mind,
Not wondering if anything else they might find,
For in the heart no ill or evil should be found,
We thus loving and true with both feet on the ground,
Our heart beating with thought and care, seeking to share,
And thus within its recesses, only good there.

By Lance Landall

Standard poem.

The Visitor

Though you do not belong to me,
I find you on my property,
And even what you leave behind,
To which I say, “I wish you’d mind.”

Your visiting doesn’t faze me,
But so much nicer it would be,
If such belongings you’d bury,
As only you I wish to see.

So visit do, for I don’t mind,
And any time that you’re inclined,
Because you’re quite a cute wee thing,
And thus a certain pleasure bring.

And if I could, a cuddle please,
Permission better than a seize,
And if you let me pat away,
I’ll leave some food out every day.

I wouldn’t mind the company,
As gardening’s rather lonely,
For many aren’t into weeding,
And despite the help I’m needing.

You’ll brighten up a boring day,
And I’ve no problem with a stray,
So visit do, I’m always here,
And time together we can share.

By Lance Landall

Just Isn’t True

“And Bob’s your uncle,” people say, which isn’t true,
Though nice if he thinks of me that way, visits too,
But he and they have their facts wrong, why I don’t know,
Even relations saying it, so there you go,
It rather a mystery to me, has me beat,
Though I won’t say “No” if he brings me a treat,
So tell him I’m fond of apple pie, and with cream,
And that if he’s rich, could he fulfil a dream,
And I’ll happily adopt him, say “Uncle” too,
But the truth is, what they’re saying, just isn’t true.

By Lance Landall





How Do I Get There?

Well, you’ve got to hoist your sail, and catch the right wind,
Heading where you wish to, your destination pinned,
But having let wisdom speak, desire tied to sense,
Given that the cost of erring can be immense,
Thus your rudder under control, a worthy wake,
Which others can follow should the same path they take,
Thus helped on their way, crossing the sea of life too,
Until, like you, their port of call comes into view.

By Lance Landall

Standard poem.

Sweet Treat

Sweet treat, why do you tempt me so? Because you know you’re no good for me,
I not wanting any indulgence to show, so stop looking at me!
Best you choose somebody else, somebody who’s a lot more slimmer than me,
And deficient in some calorie, so stop waving that spoon at me!

Hang on, don’t blame me, you being the one seductively dressed to kill,
And acting as if a wee sweetie, yet trying to break down my will.
I just won’t have it, you know! And despite how delicious you appear,
Oh, what’ve I said, because you’ve already had your way, it so unfair.

I couldn’t say, “No,” for I’m only human you know, and now it’s gone,
An amazing dessert that a lack of control quickly set upon.
And you knew it, didn’t you? And all why now you’re just laughing at me,
But you wait, because next time, because next time — oh, how you taunt me!

By Lance Landall

Don't Court Nor Flirt With

Life is short, so why do many make it shorter,
’Cause when it comes to folly, they love to court her,
And even flirting with her life-risking daughter,
Whose foolish mother, everything has taught her,
And yet, still around her, they unwisely loiter,
Thus mother and child each having their supporter,
Rather than a wised-up whistleblowing reporter,
And thus how many are like lambs to the slaughter,
Or simply getting themselves into hot water,
When with neither of them, they should have no quarter,
And why their lives are inevitably shorter,
When listen more to wisdom and sense, they oughter,
Because folly is a proverbial thwarter,
Whose bag of ill always seeks another porter
Who’ll lug that bag with its ready-to-fire mortar.

By Lance Landall

Standard poem.

We Don't Want No Part In Wars

We don’t want no part in wars — it always leaders — but just want to live and love,
Appalled and outraged by those bombs that bring suffering from the sky above.
We have our family and friends, our hopes and dreams, and our gardens to attend,
And rather than wrecking and killing, which we abhor, we wish to save and mend.

Yes, we don’t want to be a part of that darkness of yours, we preferring light,
Thereby thinking, saying and doing only those things that are kind, good and right.
Hence why we seek to find or create beauty midst the darkness that many sow,
And why we hate all that warmongering, from which nothing but ill’s seen to flow.

By Lance Landall

Love-all

“But no hugs,” they stated, and with that I grabbed my jersey and gear,
Unable to understand how they could be so jolly unfair.
“No hugs” saying it all to me, so I hit the road out of town,
And all they could do was stare as I pushed the accelerator down.
“No hugs,” huh — well, that was certainly never what I was taught,
So I didn’t stick around, was off to find another tennis court.

By Lance Landall





Spilt Milk, Spilt Milk

Some things we simply don’t understand, and therefore,
We can only but push on, despite feeling raw,
Spilt milk, spilt milk, and so why make ourselves more sore,
And why sometimes it’s just better to close the door,
Thus moving on from it, as we may’ve learnt before,
And thus growing rich in spirit rather than poor,
Swimming being the only way to reach the shore,
And negativity but a long corridor,
And why it’s waste of time we’re better to ignore,
And lest we continue to limp rather than soar.

By Lance Landall







A Lounge Lounger's Hi-Fi Dreams

It’s quiet, except for the enjoyable music playing,
My eyelids shut, and my mind pleasantly straying,
Thus images of this and that, various themes,
Or in other words, a lounge lounger’s Hi-Fi dreams.
Yes, the lights almost off, music softly playing,
I thus lost in time — if you know what I’m saying —
In a world of my own, so don’t disturb me,
That beauty midst the darkness that I hear and see.

By Lance Landall

Wants No Part

The loving heart has no desire for violence,
And if it could, all weapons of war would silence,
That everyone might live in peace and harmony,
Protective of the preciousness of humanity,
Aware of the ill and evil of violence,
Where sounds of pain and destruction disturb silence,
And where humanity’s integrity is lost,
And at such a human and economic cost,
Along with all the harm that is done to our nest,
And where once again, humanity fails its test,
And why such ill is hated by the loving heart,
Which, when it comes to any violence, wants no part.

By Lance Landall

Baking

When we bake a cake,
We don’t mix sugar and flour with mud and grit,
Because such would spoil that cake — in fact, ruin that cake,
Which I’m sure you would admit,
Yet what’s in that mixture baked in the oven of our heart and mind,
And with what cook’s recipe is such a cake aligned,
A MasterChef or a backstreet cook?
Thus one recipe leaving us well, the other leaving us crook,
One recipe helping refine our tastes, the other degrading our tastes,
Hence that wholesome heart and mind, or sullied heart and mind,
That good cake or bad cake,
Which begs the question: What cake have you chosen to bake?

By Lance Landall







Candle, Candle

A candle’s such a handy thing, providing of course
One has a box of matches, ’cause a light needs a source
In order for it to shine midst that darkness we find
When a power cut intervenes and we’re walking blind
Bumping this and that as our way we attempt to find
Searching for that candle midst some voice that says, "Oh mind!”

By Lance Landall





Once An Acorn

Once an acorn, but now look at you, a sizable tree,
Though it took years of effort so that stronger you would be,
Hence those wintry gales you’ve weathered, not to mention hail too,
Or those kids who couldn’t wait, and even more put you through,
But you got there, you got there, and how noble you appear,
A solid trunk, with handsome branches, that many leaves share,
And oh, how you shelter on hot summer days, and also
Spread your watchcare over courting couples who you well know,
Or those birds that nestle in your foliage every day,
Or those aging hikers who lean against you on their  way,
And hence you proving such a blessing, and year after year,
So many appreciative that you’re still standing there,
A mighty oak, a thoughtful bloke, with so much time to spare.

By Lance Landall

Little Mouse

Excuse me, little mouse, is your cat radar on,
Or are you simply waiting ’till pussycat’s gone,
Or the owner, maybe? — who, while out, cannot see
What little mice get up to, rather cleverly,
Darting here, darting there, their nose atwitch, and which,
Takes them where there’s food, unless of course, there’s a glitch,
Like that prowling cat, or that owner, who might do
What a little mouse wouldn’t want, and you can’t sue,
Thus careful you should be, otherwise, you won’t be,
But dead to the world in a trap, or some cat’s tea,
And why I hope your radar’s on, just thoughtfully.

By Lance Landall

Love everyone.
Harm no one.
Do what's good and right.
Enjoy what's wholesome and uplifting.
Seek truth and wisdom.
Apply commonsense.
Live in peace and harmony.
Respect the rights of others.
Tend the needy.
Stand up for the defenseless and oppressed.
Show kindness and thought.
Harm neither the planet nor its creatures.
Be honest, just, impartial and humane.
Live prudently, humbly and simply.
Let all have their say.
Be conscientious, punctual and trustworthy.
Be generous and charitable.

Time To Grow

Every day I grow more, you know,
And hence why I’m changing as I go,
And hence that much improved later me,
And hence why what you once thought of me,
May very well not be the same me,
So mind what you think and say of me,
Lest I'm a very different me,
Someone that now, you really don’t know,
So let's give others that time to grow.

By Lance Landall

On one side:
Damaged wings,
Sad hearts,
Anxious minds,
Pleading lips,
And on the other:
Straying feet,
Callous hands,
Lying eyes,
Dark souls,
And in the middle:
Open arms,
Supportive shoulders,
Honourable backs,
And a wrist held gavel.

Brave Little Face

Oh, brave little face, smiling midst the pain,
Just like sun peeping through the clouds and rain,
Gallant under fire, but in need all the same,
Trying to make it home, as it were, though lame,
Yet so desiring of a thoughtful hand,
That someone who same pain can understand,
A fellow traveller on their way too,
Aware of what many have to go through,
And so, brave little face, so sad of heart,
Yet having mastered that concealing art,
I wish you well, and pray that you will find
Relief or an end to that tortured mind,
Or that hurting heart, of which there’re many,
When the truth is, there shouldn’t be any,
But life being life, so we do our best,
’Till that time when free of all ills, we rest.

By Lance Landall

Be nothing but you.
Spread nothing but love.
Show nothing but care.
Sow nothing but kindness.
Shout nothing but praise.
Love nothing but people.
Crave nothing but goodness.
Do nothing but right.
Prize nothing but truth.
Talk nothing but sense.
Court nothing but wisdom.
Say nothing but good.
Share nothing but joy.
Leave nothing but hope.
Give nothing but help.
Seek nothing but peace.
Add nothing but value.
Praise nothing but worth.
Take nothing but yours.
Chase nothing but humbleness.
Display nothing but honesty.
Buy nothing but soundness.
Choose nothing but wellness.

Standard poem.

A Battler And Not A Coper

Are you a battler, and not a coper? — and hence your battle,
Finding it so hard to cope in this old world of pain and ill.
Well, you’re not alone, though we really needing to learn to cope,
Which is truly helped wherever there’s encouragement and hope.

And so, battle on you do, doing your best to struggle on,
And good on you, for that’s courageous, more so when set upon;
And by that I mean, when ridiculed in some unfeeling way,
Ignorance always short on understanding, it’s sad to say.

At least you’re battling, friend, some not battling at all, and therefore,
There’s still every chance that you’ll finally reach that other shore.
It not an easy world to cope in, and so, just do your best,
Trying to help others as well, and that way, you’ll be more blessed.

By Lance Landall

Standard poem.

Don't Live Life Without A Compass

Without a compass we lose our way, and so it is without a heart, and why
We see so many who’ve gone astray, and no wonder given what many buy.
One needing purpose and direction, and anchoring principles to live by,
All of which guides our words and actions, because consequences we can’t deny.

Hence how those without a compass or heart can both  suffer and cause injury,
Their bearings lost, or they without bearings, the latter devising callously.
But that principled compass bringing beauty to the soul, a light that shines,
And how the right and best way through life, which blesses others on the way, one finds.

By Lance Landall

Love Should Be,

The air we breathe,
The dream we have,
The path we take,
The key we use,
The gift we share,
The song we sing,
The prayer we pray,
The scent we carry,
The energy we expend,
The flag we fly,
The gown we wear,
The voice we hear,
The heart we keep,
The place we stay,
The message we send,
The call we make,
The bar we set,
The memory we leave.

By Lance Landall 

Standard poem.

Johnny Angel

My music tastes have been broad, and I’m not old-fashioned, but well back in my day,
There was a really pleasant, melodic song that disc jockeys would often play.
And that song being Johnny Angel sung by Shelley Fabares, and still today
It evokes a happy memory, and why via my pen, I wanted to say,

Why has such loveliness gone, exchanged for what knows very little of beauty,
Which once brightened and lightened homes via lovely melodies and class harmony.
And which today, reminds me of a more romantic time, low lights and lit fires,
Or cruising convertibles on a warm summer’s day, and more wholesome desires.

By Lance Landall


And here's the actual song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OnEmeOUmjVk&list=RDOnEmeOUmjVk&start_radio=1

Our safety is tied in with how precious we view humanity.
Our health is tied in with how desiring we are of longevity.
Our reputation is tied in with how important we view integrity.
Our well-being is tied in with how much we value morality.
Our spirituality is tied in with how much we believe in the heavenly.

SEE CAUTIONARY NOTE HOME PAGE.

Standard poem.
Christian content or degree.

What's The Secret?

“What’s the secret to a happy marriage,” the young man asked me. “Well,” I replied,
“Firstly, you’ve asked a Christian, though someone who both man’s way and God’s way has tried.
Therefore, I like to think that I’ve learnt something, but when I’m finished, it’s your call,
Though the best thing that you can do here, son, is, never take your eye off the ball.

So, regarding that secret, and from a Christian perspective, it’s Christlikeness,
And from a secular perspective, it's character, and lest the point here you’ve missed,
Both relate to our thoughts, words and actions, those traits that define us, what we’re like,
And whether in time our partner will say, “Please never leave me,” or, “On Your Bike!”

So, let me ask you some questions, son. How much does integrity meant to you?
Would your dear wife be proud of you, or would you begin to decline in her view?
I mean, would she find you selfish, lacking in principle, possibly moody,
Inconsistent, irresponsible, even reckless — well, eventually?

What does the word sacrifice mean to you? How’d you feel about bearing some cross?
Are you someone who thinks in terms of serving, or do you like to be the boss?
Are you patient, compassionate, forgiving, one who errs on the side of grace,
Or demanding, fault-finding, quick to criticise, one who would get on her case?

Are you affectionate, understanding, helpful, gentle where needed, and kind,
One who wouldn’t cheat, indulge in porn, break your promises, nor play with her mind?
Are you honest, transparent, slow to anger, non-violent, encouraging,
Or trying to hide any closet issues that might see her remove her ring?

Are you revengeful, childish? Is your head screwed on? Because all these matter, son,
Along with your choice of partner, it not all on one side, when all’s said and done.
So do you look beyond yourself, listen to wisdom, and are you sensible?
Because folly could cost you here, and infatuation just leading to ill.

Christianity wise, the Bible tells men to love and cherish their wife, which
They will do if of good character, thus more like Christ, hence there no magic switch.
No, no secret as such, just that Christlike image, which you’d need to live up to
If wanting a happy lifelong marriage, not one that in time would go askew.

When we lose ourself in others, or someone, putting their interests first, we
Find what goes ’round comes ’round; it like putting money in the bank, believe me,
For I’ve found this to be true, and all why Christ says to, and why I follow Him,
Because I’ve found that His way works best, and why selfish tendencies we should trim.

We need to die to self, rise to heavenly heights of loving concern and care,
A new spirit residing within us, for such is the only answer here.
You’re dealing with someone’s life here, which you’ll either enhance or spoil, and also
The idea being to save your marriage, not lose it, hence why good seeds you should sow.

Man’s way lacks commitment, is self-serving, all why many just live together,
Keeping their eye on the door, there no sound anchor to which they’re seen to tether.
Thus it doesn’t take much before they’re out that door, there less need to work at things,
And why, given all the hard work that’s needed in a marriage, that door just swings.

Yes, marriage has to be worked at, one needing to compromise, and say, “Sorry,”
And therefore, not carting grudges around in some destructive self-made lorry.
Hence those beatitudes Christ taught, which one might call attitudes, so critical,
As in life in general, and certainly if we’re wanting things to go well.

If sacrifice and bearing some cross isn’t our thing, then come some tough downside,
And rather than making the best of things, we will simply abandon the ride.
Success here, is dependant on grit, like Christ showed given all He had to bear,
Thus He never taking His eye off the ball, which, son, truly showed His love and care.”

By Lance Landall





Standard poem.
Christian content or degree.

Might God Say This?

I know that your problematic partner doesn't deserve you, but he needs you,
And I want you to know that he, like you, is very precious to Me too.
And so, given his need of someone good like you, I have left him in your care,
Otherwise, how would he have fared? And remember, My coming is very near;

Thus this life’s not your last one, and it’s a short one compared to eternity,
And he not near as bad as he could be, taking things in their entirety.
He loves you, and he tries his best, and I can see the good in him, which you too
Have experienced, thus not every day’s a bad day, just times that upset you.

If I had sent you someone you were thrilled with, far less growth there would be, and so
Your character’s more important to me than your wish, and why I decided, “No.”
Hence why I’m still asking you to love him for My sake, for that’s a love like Mine,
And I am working in his life, you know, and his willingness is a good sign.

He knows his issues, and he’s not happy that they cause you strain, but the truth is,
He’s who and how he is, like all of you, and that pain you feel is also his.
And he has the regret of that to live with, which will haunt him right to the end,
And all why his needs too — given I’m impartial and gracious — I have to tend.

And to be fair, you could’ve handled some things better, aren’t blameless, though I know
You don’t have things that easy, and changes in others can be painfully slow.
But people with issues can do it hard too, and need to be understood, or,
And here, things for both you and him could worsen, and you know how I like to restore.

The trouble with humanity’s love is that it’s so self-focussed, and all why
Self-sacrifice doesn't sit well, nor comes easy, and why in Heaven I sigh.
Calvary way beyond anything you’re going through, though I do understand,
I having to work with fallen, weakened creatures, and why I say, “Take My hand.”

Losing yourself in others is what it’s all about, though I have to say here,
That you do need to look after yourself too, midst whatever you have to bear.
The trouble though, is that self usually gets the most looked after, sad to say,
And therein lies the biggest problem, and why most marriages soon go astray.

If you had needed someone like he does, would you have argued with My case here,
Or praised Me for it, thankful for that someone you needed (an answer to prayer)?
All why My thoughts aren’t your thoughts, nor My ways your ways, for I’ve an all-seeing eye,
A love that thinks of the greater good, and any ugliness seeks to beautify.

You’ll realise your dreams come Heaven — if they’re wholesome, that is — so mind your sadness,
And what wonder and joy there is in seeing goodness come out of badness.
Hence that father’s joy seeing his prodigal son return, and why I love him too,
Not just you, for all are My creation — and yes, such lives I love to renew.

And hey, how would you like to be him? All why you should feel for him, and thereby, rightly,
Acting like Me, having a heart like Mine, and praying with and for him daily.
Your influence helping him change, you working on My behalf, thus pleasing Me,
It not just about saving souls, but helping them heal, make it through, finally.

This is a fallen world, dear child, so your expectations shouldn’t be too high,
And counted blessings bringing blessings, resentment just making things go awry.
Sure it’s tough, and you’ve even been hurt, but I’ve been hurt too — yes, even by you,
So hopefully you can see what I mean, for I’m still here for you, have been all through.

Tell Me, do you think that “turn the other cheek,” “do good to them who mistreat you,”
And even “love your enemy,” doesn’t apply in anyone’s marriage too?
Though here, he not a wifebeater, angry boozer, nor drug user, but a strain,
Even let down, at times, but here on Earth, there’ll always be some rain, tough terrain.

By Lance Landall





Christian content or degree.

Some Hugs Make You Cry

She was only a child, sweet and mild,
Who melted hearts whenever she smiled.
“Jesus loves you,” she stated confidently.
“So they say,” he replied, low in spirit — very discouraged, actually.
“Would you like me to show you?” she asked, confidently.
“If you want to,” he replied, unconvincingly.
And she opened her arms and gave him a hug.
Oh, what a hug!
“Did I show you?” she asked, given that he seemed a hard nut to crack.
“You sure did,” he replied again, but midst tears he couldn’t hold back.
“So why are you crying?” she questioned in reply.
And all he could say was, “Some hugs make you cry.”

By Lance Landall

Standard poem.
Christian content or degree.

It Wasn't Like That Once

Little bird, out in the storm, it wasn’t like that once, oh no,
But still, fine and warm, no chilly wind, no sleety hail, nor snow,
And food whenever you needed it, or to feed your chicks too,
With no fear of predators oft waiting to sneak up on you.

Oh dear, how hard you have it, it quite a battle to survive,
Whereas once, a very long time ago, birds were seen to thrive.
No baby birds falling out of nests, and no damaged wings too,
They living in a land of peace and beauty, nothing askew.

Yes, there no ills or dangers, and you, watched over night and day,
Not out of need but love, thus no need to ask if you’re okay.
Every day a good day, your Creator full of love for you,
And you know something, little bird, He’s full of love for me too.

And I, also having to deal with storms, just as much in need,
But in a different way, and why the Word of God I read,
For there is promised that once-upon-a-time paradise, where
Both creatures and humans, that very same happiness will share.

By Lance Landall





Christian content or degree.

A Created World

Truly, friend, there’s no beauty in evolution, none,
But there is in those millions of twinkling stars that stun,
That precise mathematical order of the universe,
Yet, how that cruel Darwinian theory many nurse,
As if the depth, height and width of love would come from such,
That sad dog eat dog scene, those missing links that they clutch,
Mentally, that is, given they’re still missing, and they
Not seeing the forest for the trees, thus well astray,
That beauty of nature lost on them, and where is seen
Clear examples of design, but their eyes hardly keen,
Because we’re not related to apes, but a Someone,
A creator, and yet still that hairy theory’s spun,
Oblivious of incredible intelligence, and
Programmed bird migration across miles of sea and land,
Those tender feelings that animals have, and therefore,
Let such folk try to ignore gravitational law,
It all so tragic, and yet there in front of their eyes,
A created world, and not a theory full of lies,
As if this planet had suddenly appeared — surprise! —
And why only folly such a hopeless theory buys.

By Lance Landall

Standard poem.
Christian content or degree.

A God Of Love

Midst the darkness of this old world, there came a Saviour — hope, light, and merciful grace,
All bound up in an amazing love that took our place, what we were supposed to face.
And how a horrid cruel cross became a thing of beauty midst the darkness of Earth,
It preceded by the glorious angelic announcement of a royal birth.

Oh, how such was needed, the ugliness of sin having engulfed our once pure nest,
And therefore, the Holy righteous rays of the Son reaching out on a Divine quest.
There just no other answer, but that of beauty midst the darkness, a GOD OF LOVE,
Who wants to remove both that ugliness and darkness via His power from above.

Yes, from this world and our hearts and minds, so that we might be like Him in every way,
We then beauty midst the beauty of Heaven, and the renewed Earth, some coming day.
Darkness and ugliness having gone, and a devil who continued to rebel,
Thus no more suffering and corruption, but peace and harmony, and thus all well.

By Lance Landall





Rhyming article containing Christian content or degree all
about not throwing out the baby with the bath water.
This article was penned on 9th of May 2026.

Where Darkness Mars The Beauty Of Christianity

Why is such a beautiful thing like Christianity, which is all about God’s great love for humanity, living rightly, displaying integrity, same love for humanity, plagued by darkness: Charlatans, hypocrisy, and even heresy?
Well, there’s a number of things here, things that I need to make very clear, because many are being put off Christianity, tragically, when God has sought to save and restore fallen humanity, and hence His death on a cross on a hill called Calvary, which has provided a way out for humanity, and all why these things that are marring Christianity, need addressing, and why of their terrible wrong I’m confessing.
The truth is, that charlatans abound in this world that we live in, and so, there are those who hide behind the title of Christian, fleecing the flock, leading astray, or trying to avoid some sort of detection, and why much done in the name of God needs serious inspection, and consequent correction.
But to recognise Charlatans, false teachers and hypocrites, one needs to know the Bible, truly know the Bible, and whether what’s being said and done fits, thus questioning, challenging, checking and observing, “For by their fruits you’ll know them,” we’re told, but here’s the problem, how many know the Bible, even within the Christian fold, many simply accepting what their pastor, leader, or other has stated, the latter one reason how that plaguing of Christianity has been created, and by both false and errant teachers, including many preachers; not to mention those once a year church attendees, or part-time attendees, who the very Author of the Bible and Head of the Church, hardly please, for how much of a Christian are they, at the end of the day? — not having much time for their Saviour, some would say.
And then there’s those outright hypocrites, who’re not truly converted, all how their witness becomes perverted, and also by those who seek to introduce what they shouldn’t, and if they truly knew Scripture, wouldn't, given God has His standards come worship, say, and all why a church is set apart, and lest it badly stray, thus hardly different from the worldly, and thus more reflective of fallen humanity, rather than the spiritual, reverent, dedicated, God-focused and Holy, and thus God offended, because worship must be rightly rendered.
And once again, there are those Christians who wrongly back some war, ignoring, misunderstanding, or misinterpreting the Bible, or some prophecy, and thus cruel, what’s more, if rejoicing in some supposed Armageddon where thousands die, which is nothing but a lie, and when Christians are told to love all, and to live in peace and harmony, thus gone any racist or bigoted wall; and the date of Christ’s return being His call.
And then there’s politics, that seeking after power (or some ivory tower), whereby both Christians and Christianity are corrupted, and how persecution has erupted, that Church and State scenario, from which, much blood has been seen to flow, and why Christians are only to influence and not enforce, the latter not their course, but rather, the things of Heaven, that lofty realm above, and why they’re told to love, and to emulate Jesus, who sorely seeks that loving change in us, wrought by the Holy Spirit who was sent by Jesus; and the Holy Spirit being the third member of the Godhead, the Trinity, just like the Bible has said.
Now back to the God of love, Divine love, full of tender care, compassion, mercy and grace, and hence why He took our place, paid the price that we deserved, love unreserved, a righteous, Holy God that Christians should think, speak and act like, thus looking like.
But as I’ve mentioned here, and rather than having healthy fear (respect, I should mention here), many Christians have badly strayed, hardly obeyed, rebellion still having its hold, and why within the Christian fold, they cause such a lot of injury, just like those into zealotry, their witness contrary, sadly, onlookers turning away, thus spurning the only way, whereby, one receives eternity, that bloodied cross of Calvary — oh yes, that “Amazing grace that saved a wretch like me.”
And then there’s that ignorance or misunderstanding again, the bane of men, for much in the Old Testament being to do with ancient Israel, not Christianity, like those wars that also plagued ancient history, thus Christ having ushered in a whole new order of things, known Christian things, like love your enemy, and hence that beginning of Christianity, much of the old departing, a new area starting, but still that sad confusing of things, which the heart of Christ simply stings.
That ancient theocracy long gone, never to return, given that they didn’t learn (Matt 21:43; 22:2-7; Dan 9:24), enter the Christian Church, but then that same old lurch, those things I’ve mentioned here, despite God’s Word having made things clear, and despite Christians having the benefit of biblical history, dear me.
And that’s the problem, Christians now erring from God’s Word, warned about wolves yet becoming wolves, the situation absolutely absurd, and hence the likes of that Christian nationalism (heretical rationalism), where what they want is different to how and what they’re told to live, and hence God’s coming sieve, for only the genuine Christian will be covered by God’s grace, gone any rebellious trace, and why one can tell a Christian by their “fruits,” because gone should be any selfish, destructive, deceptive, prideful, lawless, uncaring roots, love to be first and foremost in everything, thus no soiled boots.
And lastly, there’s that fallen angel, Lucifer, now a devil, and thus who's now called Satan, who hates God, and who badly tries to paint God, and who’s also behind those Charlatans, false teachers and hypocrites, and those damming hits — in other words, whatever makes Christianity look bad; and how sad, when Christians do Satan's dirty work for him, either via their slack, liberal or zealot type state, or their ignorant state, which shouldn’t be, and wouldn’t be, if they were committed, and deep studiers of God's Word, not just going by what they’ve heard, for after all, many a leader has misled, wrongly fed.
And so, Satan works via mockery, infiltration, corruption, heresy, hypocrites, the ignorant, deluded and ambitious, and even the scary, the latter being that errant  “God will zap you” theology, or that eternal hell-fire heresy, the latter having crept into the Church, and hence that pagan lurch, the Bible often talking figuratively or metaphorically, and hence that need of serious research, open minds and open hearts, lest God, Christians besmirch.
Yes, the Bible speaking of two unquenchable fires that once befell Jerusalem (Jeremiah 17:27), but are they still burning?...."ahem."
And thus the right construction: The permanent, irreversible result of their [those who reject Christ] destruction (having continued to rebel, further their ill), thus devoured (Rev 20:9) and not empowered.
If Christ is so horrible, why did he suffer such rejection and ill, why does He bear long with those who reject His will, or who behave badly still?
Well, it’s clear He isn’t horrible, He wanting to save, not kill, He full of love, compassion and mercy, and is offering us a Paradise for all eternity, a place of perfect peace and harmony, where every ill will be gone, and why every ill needs to exit us too, even when set upon, and why we’ll be good to those who hurt us, just like Jesus, if we’re true Christians, grateful for forgiven sins, and thus responding thankfully, walking faithfully, true witnesses, full of kindness and charity, gone rebellion, alias lies, deceit, spitefulness, selfishness and cruelty.
Yes, Christianity’s a beautiful thing, and a hope-filled thing,
all about a Saviour who's also a glorious, noble, creator and King;
all about a coming rescue (Christ's return, with a new life ahead) — the saved who're still alive rising up into the sky, and the resurrecting of the saved who happen to be dead (1Thess 4:13-18), who also rise up into the sky, all taken together (Hebrews 11:39,40) — enter joy and happiness (in other words, blissfulness);
all about love, goodness, wholesomeness, truth, integrity, humaneness, forgiveness, selflessness, humbleness, honesty, accountability, positivity.....;
all about order, lawfulness, justice, transparency, restoration, rightdoing, etiquette, loveliness, peace and harmony....;
all about standing up for, and looking out for, the suffering, poverty stricken, oppressed, persecuted, wrongly accused.....and why mistreatment and violence cannot and will not be excused, but must face that justified coming day of reckoning, and hence why Christ in love is beckoning, “Follow Me,” for why forfeit eternity, if living in darkness currently, and when you can experience that heavenly beauty midst the darkness, even now, and in fact, help to lessen any darkness? — and that's done, by reflecting the light of Heaven's beauty, emulating the Son, the Christian's duty.

By Lance Landall

By the way, why is pointing out the errors in any denomination or religion important?
Because that information made public can help prevent others from embracing that same error.
Because that information made public can help those who’ve already embraced that error to see why it is in fact error.
Because that information should naturally be made available in order for people to not only make up their minds but truly have freedom of choice.
Because people often come up with opposite arguments from the very same source as us — the Bible, say — thus one not only having to find and present the correct position, the truth, but show and prove the error in any counter argument, which some people wrongly call knocking when it's really informing and aiding.
Because certain beliefs that some people are holding to are unhealthy, or very destructive — ISIS being one example. And such passing from generation to generation. 
Because much that's been said and done in the name of God hasn't been of God at all.

Some seem to want a God who's not only forgiving, but who's
happy if a lie they're living, which would simply reveal hypocrisy
and ignore accountability.

Rhyming article containing Christian content or degree.

Hope Over Hopelessness

How ironic it is that people scoff at a God who came to this Earth, yet, if you’ll forgive my reasoned mirth, take seriously that nonsense of some big bang, from which, the evolution of humans sprang, and all that intelligence, and hence that need of due diligence, as if such a scenario makes any sense, but oh, that roar of defence.
And then, love apparently ambled our way, and as if to say, “Sorry about all that tooth and claw, it just goodness making its very slow way,” as if it could, as if it would, having materialised out of rock and gas, but alas, people actually believing such, and when I know this much, that nothing can come out of nothing, that material can’t form something on its own, certainly not flesh and bone, nor trees appear when a seed isn’t there, oh dear.
The Bible’s creation story holding hope, but evolution? Nope, one not knowing anything about the future or past, there nothing there to grasp, it all assumed, speculated, just a theory, it airy-fairy, when creation makes far more sense, the intricacy, detail, mathematics and design but immense, even intense, and we alone in space, miraculously spinning at an amazing pace, and were things just a little out of sync, we would be more than just sitting on the brink, and thus Someone overseeing, and biblical archaeology agreeing, for there’s a history of evidence, yet most people too hard to convince.
And evolution wise, there’s no accountability, thus anything going, and as for justice on Earth, the sad lack of it showing, corruption everywhere, thus whistleblowers beware, and why I look beyond it all, the Bible having spoken of a fall, and I can see that, morality having been told to scat, thus there no code within the heart, just that outer civil law that’s worlds apart.
Yes, most having accepted that evolutionary spiel, a message that one cannot live nor feel, and thus monkeys not the link I’m looking for, but a heavenly Someone who seeks my heart’s door, and my mind’s too, that both He might renew, and undoubtedly if He’s a designer, creator.
But no, Earth’s millions of years old, they say, despite evidence that disagrees, Earth but in a state of decay, cursed by a rebellion that chose its own way, and all why that Someone will return to rescue and restore, which that same Bible states, and over which, I eagerly pour, but meantime He waits, for things must play out before His returning shout, so that all can see, all can know, for truth must out.
Going by the signs, we’re in the final years of a biblically predicted end, and this all being why, dear friend, this article I’ve penned, because if what the Bible says is true, this should surely be of interest to you, and we know this world’s not getting any better, and hence Christ’s Gospel Letter, because He doesn't want to see any lost, for what a cost, we talking about eternity, a world that’s heavenly, which evolution can’t offer (and thus here, there certainly room for the scoffer).

By Lance Landall

Standard poem.
Christian content or degree.

Is Christianity Really For You?

Although we like to think otherwise, Lord, our love is not even close to yours,
And all why my heart bleeds when I dwell on such, and what goes on behind closed doors.
We want forgiveness for our sins, Lord, and also the assurance of Your grace,
Yet what do we still harbour in our hearts, and if that’s so, what might we well face?

After all, You’ve told us our heart has to be clean to enter Heaven, and so,
We holding no grudge, nor withholding forgiveness, and if we were, You would know.
All why we’re told to love our enemies, and so, even if our heart’s been broken,
We’re to rise above it, and respond like You have to us, thus no mere token.

We’re not deserving of Your grace, nor some deserving of our grace, but even so,
We’re to give it, we’re to show it, thus holding nothing back, because love must show.
It might be a tall order, but it is an order, because we’ve been told to,
And it is doable, just not coming naturally, but what we must do.

Otherwise there’s a dark spot on our heart, one we know of, there no mistaking,
And if it’s contrary to Your will, then we know which path we should be taking.
Otherwise it’s sin, deliberate, not ignorant, nor accidental, and
Such the heart must be free of, something we need to seriously understand.

Yes, it’s hard to love those who’ve been cruel to us, but You did, and thus so must we,
And after all, despite our injury, we’ll soon be getting eternity.
The pain on Earth soon paling into insignificance, and thus all why we
Must look at the bigger picture, leave self behind, remembering Calvary.

And now, Lord, I turn to my brothers and sisters, and in true sincerity,

Saying: And this all being what is different about Christianity,
Therefore, is Christianity really for you, too much of a stretch, sadly?
Because the alternative is just that three score years and ten, such as it’s been,
Nothing like what you would experience when surveying that heavenly scene.

Yes, such needs serious thought, because what you cling to could be the death of you,
Harboured things bad for one's health, let alone ones eternity going askew.
Goals often requiring sacrifice, and sometimes we need to swallow our pride,
Lest it work against our better future, and we end up on the devil’s side.

Look, I know how cruel things can leave us feeling, even kill our love for someone,
But with God’s help, such not beyond resurrecting, unless divine help we shun.
It all to do with the type of love in our heart, whether its greater than ours,
Untainted by fallen emotions, and which to a much higher order bows.

Thus we putting the pieces back together again, as best we can, or we
Where unable, moving on, but without our heart harbouring acrimony.
There no place in the Christian’s life for bitterness, which leaves far less room for love,
And why rather than introverted brooding, we should dwell on the things above.

When we practice doing things, like affection, say, it will soon become our way,
And so it is with love, love that’s bigger, and which God’s will chooses to obey.
Yes, this is what makes Christianity different, and where hearts really change,
And thus where things really happen, but we’ve got to want such, though isn’t it strange

That, that wanting is lacking, and why things don’t change, and won’t, ’till that inner change,
Where the Holy Spirit is fully welcomed, and thus able to rearrange.
And that’s not just the difference of, but the beauty of, Christianity,
That love that goes well beyond that fallen only-so-far love of humanity.

And by only so far, I mean, it seems to have its limits, even time frame;
In other words, 'till we’ve been badly hurt, or had enough, and then to our shame,
Self weighs in, in whatever form, and we're quickly indulging in that blame game,
Hardly carrying our cross with dignity, and thus bringing shame on God’s name.

So once again, friend, is Christianity really for you, too harder a call,
And why you're still clinging to things, nursing things, rather than giving God your all?
You unable to have it both ways, it either one or the other, and why
You should be letting go, and letting God, because if not, greater pain you'll know,

It all having gone awry.

By Lance Landall





Christian content or degree.

Dwell On Such, We Should

We tread on God’s own foot when we harm another soul,
Shocking angels who’ve been given a protective roll,
And thus we pleasing Satan who has a spiteful goal,
And who’s responsible for Earth’s rising callous toll,
And which the happiness of Eden long ago stole,
Leaving behind in the hearts of all a great big hole,
And all why 'till Christ’s return we will never feel whole,
Nor truly experience the joys of Heaven’s bowl,
And all why we should add our flag to our Saviour's pole,
Our name thus seen in bloodred ink on Heaven’s “saved” roll,
We having adhered to the words of each Bible scroll,
Whereby the gold streets of Heaven we will get to stroll.

By Lance Landall

PEOPLE WHO TRULY LOVE HAVE A HIGH REGARD FOR LAW, BECAUSE LAW PROTECTS, AND THIS BEING WHY THE GOD OF LOVE HAS HIS LAW;
JUSTICE BEING PART OF HIS NATURE, AND THOSE WHO TRULY LOVE HAVING THE SAME NATURE; IN OTHER WORDS, THEY'RE ALSO LOVING, LAW-ABIDING AND JUST.