The Flying Quill

Art in the form of Literature.

King Richard

When “The King” visits another realm, the villagers roll out the red carpet and trumpeters

Announce his Majestys’ arrival. “All hail King Richard!”

We are, indeed, honored by your presence in our humble and loving folder. Your “wit and wisdom” and learned abilities as poet and grand master are exemplary. Please feel free to return and share your opinions on the issues at hand.

In view of your obvious achievements, and vast literary genius, I implore you to “consider” Christ and the hope of faith in the treasure of the gift of Eternal Life. Within our garden here, please feel free to examine the “ seeds of faith” which eventually bloom exposing the beauty of the Love of God and His gift to humanity.

Regarding your post: <”Is there anyone here who doesn’t think that Mr. Futrell’s point is a 360 degree, tomahawk slam dunk easy winner?”>

Mr. Futrell posed a timely question regarding today’s capitalistic society. This question has spawned both debate and thought into one of the most ambiguous passages in the Bible. In this respect, he was

A winner. Eternal life is not a prize, it’s a gift one receives upon acceptance of Christ as Savior and Lord and judgement is reserved for God.

If you are interested, you need only to scroll down this folder and read my post regarding the passage

It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”—-Mark 10:25 (KJV)

The “bottom line” is…God isn’t concerned with the amount of riches one gathers on earth, He’s concerned with your “riches” in Glory.

Thanks for visiting the Christian Garden of faith. Feel free to stop by anytime and enjoy faith in bloom.

JoAnne S. Johnson

An Angles Gift

I’m only a tiny-heartbeat
Nine weeks old.
Jesus loves me
So do the Angels
And my new family too.

I’m so special.
I’m the first
Baby for mom
And dad and
Grannys two.

But my special
First one, new
A Bible Storybook
In poetry too.

May 11, 1999

Mystic Moon

Her silvered hair and deepened eyes

From windy days and cloud-filled skies

Beyond words of ancient Indian lore,

Magic dwells within her pores.

God sent His veil to protect her plight

By feathered slips of cloud-lit night,

To hide a buttered-moon from sight

As almost to immortalize the rite.



June 9, 1999