A Rose
The Song I Sing
What Will It Take?

How Sweet the Word
The Face
The Stool

It kissed a petal
with diamond dew.
Delicate colors mingled;
tingly, rich, like new.

It broke, tattered
and shattered.
The hush of night,
it began light.

It is a miracle,
this new day.
A faintest whisper,
Christ passed this way.

Faint aroma,
spreadingly light;
Then bursting brightly.
Oh, the beauty of a rose!

by (Howard) Vern Nicholson
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May the song that I sing today
Be more beautiful, as I go my way.
Yes, My Lord, please sing thru me.
Let Thy glorious radiance flow thru all day!

May the praises that I sing,
thru eternity ever ring!
Oh, the love you gave for me.
Yes, my praises, ever thankful be.

Oh, what a glorious Lord we serve!
Oh, the power, by which to serve!
Yes, my Lord and master that be!
Thy precious love you gave to me!

May thy glorious love freely flow.
Out from me to others to know!
The springs of life gushing rise.
To envelope the ever glowing skies.

Rich in mercy and healing power.
Thank you, Lord, for your comforting hour.
May I ever be constrained with love!
Wise as serpents but harmless as a dove!

by (Howard) Vern Nicholson
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Lord, don't know what it will take
For all Americans to awake.
They haven't, yet.  That is sure.
Shake them well, to make them pure.

At one time, it was Pearl Harbor destroyed ...
Then, the wars and all that was destroyed.
Then, we had many troubles and woes.
America went to sleep and bombed our shores.

Lord, haven't seen an awaking yet.
What is it gonna take?  Death, you bet.
Why sleep so sound, with closed minds?
Wake up from sleep.  Don't stay behind.

Lord, will it take slavery or death?
When they take their last breath?
Wake up and smell the coffee.
Open eyes and mind to see.

The enemy is taking over our land.
People still playing, sinful in bands;
NWO and Satan on every hand.
Losing our freedoms to Satan's hand.

Maybe you don't even care.
Wake up America, Beware!
No time to sleep, Awake!
Your freedom and lives at stake.

by Howard Vern Nicholson
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When as a child,
I learned to tie my shoe.
I looked at the world. 
It was all new!

One day, while playing
on the kitchen floor,
A heavenly train
came thru the door!

All of my life,
I had been sickly to this day!
The train came by. 
I said, "Can I go to stay?"

The angel said, "No.
Your time is not up.
You are well now,
as sound as a pup!"

Later, I told my folks
of the train.
They said, "Praise the Lord,
we have you again!"

The train flew by
in the thin air;
No track, or station,
or even a care!

This story is true,
as God can attest!
He said, "Work for me,
do it your best!"

The train ran high above the trees
to it's destination.
For, only in heaven
is there a train station!
I recall this story,
60 years and more,
Expecting the train
to come thru the door!

Not many know of this story,
I know;
To remember me,
as I onward go.

Some said 'a miracle',
'a story', 'not so'.
But I know it is true,
as onward I go!

When the train comes by,
I will be ready to go
On that heavenly train,
just up to the show!

by (Howard) Vern Nicholson
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Where is part of my heart?
Please, let me tell thee!
 Beside the old church
In the cemetery.

It was 10 December, 1955;
My father laid to rest, after a life.
The church was over
full for the man that you see;
Because He worked hard,
raised a Christian family!

It was in May, 1975;
My mother laid to rest, after a life!
The church was over full
for her don't you see;
Because she worked hard,
raised a Christian family!

The church I attended
when I was a stray,
It taught me of Jesus,
and He is the way!

Precious memories,
treasures I toast;
Being at New Liberty,
thus I can boast!

Over the years,
many saints have been there.
'Only because for Jesus,
they love and care!

I will never forget
that old country church.
If it hadn't been for it,
I would be in a lurch!

So then, my friend,
it is important to me.
The New Liberty Church
continues for thee.

I have traveled the world over,
across many a sea.
But, the old country church
is important to me.

If you stop by,
maybe not much to see.
But when you do,
say a small prayer for me!

For this is the place,
I was told to love so.
So now, many years later,
this Jesus I know!

 by (Howard) Vern Nicholson
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Slept out all night upon the ground ...
Beneath the bright stars, blue sky, no sound!
I thought, "How did I get to be a bum, anyway?"
It happened like this, no matter what they say.

It started out many years ago,
When as a young man, with no place to go.
With that kind of life, I was bored stiff;
Drinking and gambling, just began to drift.

I traveled the country rambling, of course;
Free as a bird and wild as a horse,
Took on bad habits, began to swear,
Got to the point that I didn't care!

Then, one day, it happened.  A man came to me.
He said he loved me, I didn't have to be that way.
Said, at one time, he was just like me!
Stored that in the back of my mind, that day.

Imagine that man, as miserable as me.
He looked so dressed up and happy, you see!
He said, the only way to be like him
Was to take Christ as Savior, because He loved me!

Well, don't you know, I took His advise;
Got down on my knees, to never think twice ...
Rose up again to begin a new life and SEE!
Look, with Jesus, I am not a bum.  I am free!!!


by (Howard) Vern Nicholson
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I used to go to church and hear the preacher say,
"If you don't have Jesus, you'll be in hell someday!"
The preachers used to preach hard and by the hour.
I heard one say, "Pray 15 minutes and listen for an hour."
I heard many prayers to Jesus, like he was Santa Claus;
heard many of them pray for just their maws and paws.
Then, I heard one old meek preacher pray for more power.
He said, "Pray for 15 minutes and listen for an hour."
Well, do you know that, after many a year,
I learned to reach the heart of God's ear?
He whispered, softly, in my ear, "Want more power?
Just pray for 15 minutes and listen for an hour."
The lesson that I learned, from my God,
as for years and years I prayed, "Help me, God,"
He said, "Won't ever learn, the way you have, for power.
Just simply pray for 15 minutes and listen for an hour."
Well, it finally reached my heart from my ear.
The power, He gave to me, fills me with cheer.
He whispered to me, "One way to real power
Is to pray for 15 minutes and listen for an hour."
Praise the Lord for the blessings He gives.
Through hours of prayer, I really know He lives.
For, He showed me the way to more, more, power.
Now, I can pray forever and listen by the hour.
by (Howard) Vern Nicholson
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How sweet thy Word to my taste!
Your Word never fails, nor any waste!

So sweet as honey, to me!
Of course, your Word, it comes from Thee.

Lord, help me eat until my fill.
Then, I will obey Thy will!

Lord, help me to then be still!
Thou art God and forever will!

by (Howard) Vern Nicholson
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I recall the face so sweet;
A face, yet plain, though lovely -
A face like most mothers, I guess,
Simply molded, but lovely.

Down through many years, I wondered,
What about Jesus Christ's Face?
Then, I began to learn the lessons
He taught and His radiant grace!

I said, "If I had known love,
things would be different, I know!"
Mother said, "I have done that all my life,
 that you and others may know."

She said, "I have given my love of Christ,
in all life's work and relations to show."
That was really a surprise, and I meditated
For all the great examples of love to know.

The lessons I learned are so simple,
All part of my life.
It is funny, the face of Jesus ...
I had been shown it all my life?

When you want to see His face,
Please look in the right place -
In the face of His people.
For, the Glory of Christ is in their face!

by (Howard) Vern Nicholson
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My dad wrote a poem,
and Russell took it to school.
It was called, "The celebrated milking stool."
It was quite long and sounded so drool.

There were many lines, all true.
The great story of a milking stool,
It would have even tickled you.
Our cow gave milk, as much as a pool.

It was decided, when milking, you needed a stool;
One with three legs and flat bottom, too.
Dad took it to the barn, while he milked a pool
Of the sweetest milk.  Your mouth would drool.

The cow got excited, one day in the dark,
And kicked dad and the stool right out of the stall.
He picked himself up, bucket, stool and all ...
Got after the cow.  It was quite a brawl.

The bucket was bent out of shape and some more.
The stool was used to even the score.
My dad lost his temper over the pool.
But what suffered most, was the stool.

It has been fifty years and maybe some more,
But I remember the stool and the door.
And, the three legged stool was broken no more.
Time has settled and made even the score!
-- by Howard Vern Nicholson
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