Poet's Platform Column | 4 Oct. 07 by Janet Nesler | The Scioto Voice | Wheelersburg, Ohio

He Looked at Me I sinned and felt me spirit twinge, I looked into the sky, Where I knew that Christ abode somewhere, To wait until His time. And I saw the clouds pass from the face Of the Son of God upon His throne. He looked at me, and I at Him, And suddenly I was alone. He looked at me, with painful eyes, That frightened me to look upon, And I heard him say to God above, “Father, please forgive Your Son.” Sena Kenton Hebron, KY   A Rocky Path Towards the Unknown I walked today where Jesus walked Along a rocky path We walked and talked like good friends do Confiding without wrath; The path led downward t’wrds the woods Leaves of past Fall piled deep— Dried crunchy-brown from season past Along the country steep; As I approached the bottom step, I wondered – left or right? The choice was mine to make – not His, At bottom of the height I walked today where Jesus walked Beside my journeys’ end; Turning toward my tomorrow Constantly with my Friend. Pearl (Carpenter) Anderson London, KY   God’s Painting A beautiful sunset Colors of gold and red With a back ground Of white clouds. Time seems to almost stand still As you sit quietly watching this Beautiful sunset slowly Disappear from sight As evening shadows fall. The stars appear now As a beautiful round full moon appears Peaking up from behind The hills. Only God can paint this picture. Florence Wagner Portsmouth   His Hands As I am standing here in the darkness of night I see millions of stars up in the Heavens above How small I feel compared to this vast universe One that our Lord and Savior has filled with love So much peace and comfort we see this night It is so quiet standing here in the cool night air It feels like I could fly high among all the stars But with my feet to ground I wont go anywhere  We look out on this world that He has created See the wonders that were made by His hands From the mountains down to the deepest valley To the seas and beaches with fine grain sands Each thing took His exacting precision to make No shoddy or sloppy work from Him will you see It had to be nothing short of His pure perfection We now think just how Beautiful Heaven will be Acie Workman Eden Park