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To be insightful means to intuitively grasp things - an "aha!" moment!

About Me

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I am a member of the church of Christ. I have been writing things since I was little. Some have been printed, some posted. I write to teach or encourage; to blow off steam; and for fun! I had my own motorcycle in my 40s; I was a bluegrass music DJ for about 13 years; I've performed some. I am a member of the NRA. In 2003 (age 59), I became high partial legally blind; in 2005, I had to get hearing aids! Franklin Field said: "Poor eyes limit your sight; poor vision limits your deeds". And no kidding, the picture was made April, 2012!

Monday, August 24, 2015

A SERVANT's HEART

At the heart of a servant is a will to try,
To get out of my comfort, and likely to fly.
To help someone, great or small,
Knowing NOT to try is sure to fall.

A servant's heart should be my goal,
Rich or poor, to ease a soul.
An unknown person without a name
To him, I'm an angel with heart aflame.

My heart's not there for praise on earth.
The greatest servant was low by birth.
His example is mine. To God be praised!
In Heaven forever, with Him I'm raised!

The least I can do is follow God's path --
Thanking God instead of feeling His wrath.
My servant's heart -- thank God I'm free!
The Greatest Servant rescued me!

Not too bad for having been written in about 10 minutes, Monday, August 24, 2015, 9:50am, Netagene Kirkpatrick

Saturday, January 3, 2015

MEMORIES and OLD IRON



Memories like rusty old iron that was cast
In some small sandy hole that I thought surely would last –
Brought to the front of my mind now and then,
Polished so I vaguely see them again.

Cracks in my memories like pits in the iron –
Missing some scenes like a field that is barren.
Like seasoning on skillet, a faint image shows through –
Someone from long years, some notes I once knew.

A shine that now beams to my memory, now dim –
I see in my mind's eye – was that really him?
My father, my brother – oh where have you gone?
My sister, my mother – some notes of a song ...

Though iron lasts a long time, it changes its look.
My mind from my body has also forsook ...
Corrosion has come to that iron in the sand.
I'm changing, too, for a far better land.

My thinking is slipping – sometimes loses track,
Like that trusty iron skillet, I'm beginning to crack.
Forgetting my own name, don't know who you are –
But I do know that Heaven's no longer so far!

But now it's today. I'm not sure what to do.
The rust in that skillet's now covered my view.
My mind simply tricks me with things only I see.
I know that I'm fading but God's arms reach for me.

- by Netagene Kirkpatrick, December 21, 2014 -

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