Rated: E · Book · Personal · #2172808

We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life.

There are times when solitude is better than society, and silence is wiser than speech. We should be better Christians if we were more alone, waiting upon God, and gathering through meditation on His Word spiritual strength for labour in his service. We ought to muse upon the things of God, because we thus get the real nutriment out of them. . . . Why is it that some Christians, although they hear many sermons, make but slow advances in the divine life? Because they neglect their closets, and do not thoughtfully meditate on God's Word. They love the wheat, but they do not grind it; they would have the corn, but they will not go forth into the fields to gather it; the fruit hangs upon the tree, but they will not pluck it; the water flows at their feet, but they will not stoop to drink it. From such folly deliver us, O Lord. . . .
― Charles Spurgeon


Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strengths.
― C. H. Spurgeon


Hope itself is like a star- not to be seen in the sunshine of prosperity, and only to be discovered in the night of adversity.
― Charles Haddon Spurgeon


If sinners be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our dead bodies. And if they perish, let them perish with our arms wrapped about their knees, imploring them to stay. If Hell must be filled, let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go unwarned and unprayed for.
― Charles Spurgeon


A Bible that’s falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.
― Charles Spurgeon


Visit many good books, but live in the Bible.
― Charles Spurgeon


When your will is God's will, you will have your will.
― Charles Spurgeon


https://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/2876959.Charles_Haddon_Spurgeon

(Philippians 2:13, KJV)

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March 13, 2026 at 11:49am
March 13, 2026 at 11:49am
#1110565
warming up today
last night on the chilly side
spring the coming friend

by Jay O'Toole
on March 13th, 2026
March 12, 2026 at 12:42pm
March 12, 2026 at 12:42pm
#1110488
Rain, rain, rain
from the sky, today.
Wet upon the pane,
droplets on display.

Rain, rain, rain,
new spring yard it grows,
feeding seeds like grain,
more of sun it knows.

Clouds, clouds, clouds,
covering the sky,
rain must truly reign
over land, that's nigh.

Rain, rain, reign
on this rainy day!
Crops will wondrous gain
from the things you say.

by Jay O’Toole
on March 12th, 2026


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March 11, 2026 at 8:08pm
March 11, 2026 at 8:08pm
#1110444
Too often dentists' drills I've heard,
after the pinch of Novocaine.
The
teeth were crooked. O my word.
The metal came of
braces fame.

Before the braces,
wisdom teeth
"We must extract to make some room."
Two
molars on that day caused grief
as sleep fled in the night of doom.

The
braces came at 24.
My future wife I met 'bout then.
She took me with my rails and more,
a funny face, and cheeky grin.

But after days of straightened
teeth,
I've learned to sleep in the
dentist's chair.
The
drill's familiar drone replete,
a sound machine of comfort there.

How many
fillings teeth made full?
The
root canals make smoke to fly,
but later
root canals we pull
as saving
teeth no more can try.

Make one more
tooth for middle top,
and make
a bridge for lower five.
The "goober" label we can stop,
but matching tints we slight deprive.

Yet, one thing good I know it's true.
The posters o'er the
dentist's chair
are peaceful places, mountain view,
and beaches with some palms out there.

How does the
dentist deform his hand
to work in awkward space, like that?
Why doth he ask me of my plans
when
mouth is full and cheeks are fat? *Wink*

line count: 32
poetry form: quatrains of iambic tetrameter lines
prompt number: 11 (March 11th, 2026)


by Jay O’Toole
on March 11th, 2026


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March 10, 2026 at 8:28pm
March 10, 2026 at 8:28pm
#1110345
To label Truth as "yours and mine"
conflates what Truth must be.
"That Truth is preference" seems quite fine,
until results we see.

Conflating Truth with ice cream choice
demeans it to the core.
To contemplate its latest voice,
its base we can't ignore.

For preference is Life's unique view.
It shows just who we are.
To sip the coffee's house blend brew
will put my day on par.

To navigate across the foam
when storm did compass take,
The North Star I must find or roam
as fin'lly life may break.

The North Star is the truth of Truth.
It's fixed. It does not move.
The Truth exists 'fore Earth was youth.
It must all foes reprove.

line count: 20
poetry form: quatrains of iambic tetrameter & trimeter lines
prompt number: 10 (March 10th, 2026)


by Jay O’Toole
on March 10th, 2026


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March 9, 2026 at 3:28pm
March 9, 2026 at 3:28pm
#1110254
To be upon the bottle in
the oils, that make our day
helps smooth to be our quickest win
with hopefuls on display.

Just put a dab upon the face.
Makes beauty big by sweetest grace.
When lacking focus for the task,
it's Frankincense. That's all we ask.

Essential is the oil to cook.
On goodness we now feast.
Some dishes come from one big book,
the rise of bread from yeast.

Essential plans for life on Earth
may need some oils of essence rare.
Aromas show their greatest worth
attending to some anxious care.

line count: 16
poetry form: quatrains of iambic tetrameter & trimeter lines
prompt number: 9 (March 9th, 2026)


by Jay O’Toole
on March 9th, 2026


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March 8, 2026 at 7:12pm
March 8, 2026 at 7:12pm
#1110168
The time has come to change our minds.
Yet, day still binds
the same.
Few minutes more at best we see.
Earth spins. Sun's free
from game.

The sun must set when Earth is past
the light, that's last,
then dark.
Our changing minds new numbers give
with which to live,
and park.

by Jay O’Toole
on March 8th, 2026


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March 7, 2026 at 7:51pm
March 7, 2026 at 7:51pm
#1110096
How doth yon poet ply his craft
with "thees" and "thous" and weirdsome words?
Methinks some reader often laughed
at things now said with mos absurd.

He talks of Jesus' worthy Name,
though many do not find Him so.
"Anachronism!" That's the blame,
a social misfit rare to know.

One Simon Peter skulking near
His Master's trial warmed for cold,
denied his Friend for very fear,
though Supper's fealty was quite bold.

"
Thou wast with Him in Garden, Sir."
"
I know not what thou sayest to me."
"'
Tis true the thing I now infer
for list. Thy speech bewrayeth thee
."

"
That's very lie. Now, with an oath,
I raise my voice to him deny!
"
How oft do I with nasal growth
deny my Lord with silence by?

When in some situation dire,
I'm asked, "
Do know thee, Jesus Christ?
Some say His Name is lofty, higher,
The Son of God, Who paid the price!
"

Will life per this be on the line?
Will Truth be spoke, if life they take?
Is silent wisdom always fine?
Doth judgment fall, if silence break?

Quite out-of-place, and off the mark
are testimonies lived in Book,
but words of honor often spark,
that fires of trial be not forsook.

line count: 32
poetry form: quatrains of iambic tetrameter lines
prompt number: 7 (March 7th, 2026)


by Jay O’Toole
on March 7th, 2026


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March 6, 2026 at 4:37pm
March 6, 2026 at 4:37pm
#1109970
sky above so blue
canopy
shields for me and you

line count: 3
poetry form: lune
prompt number: 6 (March 6th, 2026)

by Jay O’Toole
on March 6th, 2026

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March 5, 2026 at 11:01pm
March 5, 2026 at 11:01pm
#1109913
When you have skin in the game,
you focus on the absolute goal
of victory, the return to Same
eschewing pain making Body whole.

"
Skin in the game"'s a unique thought.
It means you're committed to the very end.
The Truth can't waver as we're longtime taught,
but the Body must at times, adjust and bend.

My "
skin in the game" brought surgery
to heal the pain my
skin endured,
but pain I feel's quite cursory
When thinking of _____, The Living Word.

The One, Who made all Heaven and Earth,
had "
Skin in the game," restoring the Same.
He chose The Cross to bring new birth
to forlorn souls, who bore their blame.

line count: 16
poetry form: Quatrains of iambic & anapestic tetrameter lines, a-b-a-b rhyme scheme
prompt number: 5 (March 5th, 2026)

by Jay O’Toole
on March 5th, 2026

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March 4, 2026 at 5:37pm
March 4, 2026 at 5:37pm
#1109796
It's pliable beneath my hands,
a craft that I can mold.
To start sometimes with minor plans
can often be quite bold.

The bowl of orange glaze
shines to all amaze,
a skill throughout our days.

line count: 7
poetry form: A quatrain & a tercet of iambic tetrameter & trimeter lines
prompt number: 4 (March 4th, 2026)

by Jay O’Toole
on March 4th, 2026

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