I'm Sorry

Yes, I know I promised a new story soon, but I haven't and may not have time to write the whole thing out for a while.

So, in the mean time, here is a list of interesting things that happened this week:

1: Geno and I accidentally ate some moldy buns for lunch.

2: Our computer got viciously attacked by a virus yesterday and I had to wrestle it to the ground and I'm still not sure that I got the whole thing yet. In all seriousness, please pray that it is gone and it has/will cause no damage to Windows.

3: Today I drank a fully caffeinated mocha and I've been jittering all afternoon. I guess there's no one to blame but myself considering I made it...

Here's one random fact for you to ponder, as well:

There seems to be a misconception going around that no one writes viruses for Macs. Oh, contrare, mi amigo! There are viruses for Macs, but people don't get them as often because the majority of the world have PC's. So, sorry Mac people, but there are viruses for Mac.

Yours Cheesey,

Dominic

It's Coming...

Yes, the new post is coming. I just need to find time to type up the exciting story; I'm a little busy right now...Soon, though!

Yours Cheesey,

Dominic

It's Time

Yes, 'tis time for a new post...

Yours Cheesey,

Dominic

My Advocate

This is a poem I read in my Literature notebook just a few minutes ago, and I though it was very powerful. I hope you enjoy it!

My Advocate by Martha Snell Nocholson

I sinned. And straightway, post-haste, Satan flew
Before the presence of the most high God,
And made a railing accusation there.
He said, "This soul, this thing of caly and sod,
Has sinned. 'Tis true that he has named They name,
But I demand his death, for Thou hast said,
'The soould that sinneth, it shall die.' Shall not
Thy sentence be fulfilled? Is justice dead?
Send now this wretched sinner to his doom
Shat other thing can righteous ruler do?"
And thus he did accuse me day and night,
And every word he spoke, O God, was true!

The quickly One rose up from God's right hand,
Before Whose glory angels veiled their eyes.
He spoke, "Each jot and tittle of the law
Must be fulfilled; the guilty sinner dies!
But wait--suppose his guilt were all transferred
To Me and that I paid his penalty!
Behold My hands, My side My feet! One day
I was made sin for him, and died that he
Might be presented, faultless, at They throne!"
And Satan fled away. Full well he knew
That he could not prevail against such love,
For every word my dear Lord spoke was true!

In Christ,
Anth

My New Poem

Yes, I, Dominic have written a brand new poem. And guess what...It's actually serious! Here it is:

The Darker, The Drearier, The More Precious Was She

On a dark road clinging to his side
From the vigorous elements she tries to
hide.
Family gone now, all but her brother,
With not a sister, nor father,
not even a mother.

With not a coat to keep her warm
In the dark
of night hope dost not swarm
For her and her brother all is but lost
And
yet another tormenter comes: the frost.

The darker, the drearier,
the more precious is she,
As she looks and says from she to he,
“The Cold,
the dark, the frost dost bite.”
And he replied, “Sister, Lord is with us, do
not fright.”

And so the days grew on with these two alone
With
not a meal, not a love, not but a grave moan.
Yet when He met yet another one
who grew he to love,
His young sister, now seventeen was left
aloof.

A young lady left all alone,
Flees from the freeze, but
hast no home
Where she might hide from the devilish cold,
But no, not for
her, young lady so bold.

She wanders again from her brother’s new
home.
Though, the cries that she should stay in her mind echo.
Yet, she is
looking for something, love in the distance,
She knows it is there, somewhere
beyond his assistance.

He loved her forever, but could not
persuade
This young lady from out of the cold to stay.
She must find what
she is looking for,
And, though she like to stay, must pass through his
door.

For three more years she wandered outcast,
Until she met
him who loved her so dear.
But this new man was not someone from down
here,
For he was the Lord who created this dear.

She found Him
in the streets of her old home town
Where a kind young man then gave her a
fresh gown.
She also grew to love him, and she returned to her
brother,
Where both wife and husband were brother and
kin.

AND ALL LIVED TOGETHER, HAPPY ‘TIL THE END.

What do you think? I'm thinking about making a few changes to it, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I got the idea in the car on a hunting trip last week; the line "The darker, the drearier, the more precious was she" just came into my mind and I knew I had to write a poem about it, so that's how this came about.

Yours Poetically Cheesey,

Dominic

P.S. BTW, Blogger messed up the formatting a little...Just FYI.