Stand Up For These Rights

(Words to the song "Stand Up For These Rights" on "Voice of the Patriots" album.)

On an aging faded document in the halls of history
Speaks the voice of Providence that made our fathers free
Calling from the foggy mists of history,
Calling to the children of the patriots made free. 

Can you hear that voice calling you?
Can you hear the patriot cry?
Can you hear the voice of Providence?
Patriot! Stand up for these rights!

Providence has spoken that all should be free,
Governments were born to bring these rights to you and me
So every man can live in peace and happiness,
So every man, everywhere can live in liberty.

Can you hear that voice calling you?
Can you hear the patriot cry?
Can you hear the voice of Providence?
Patriot! Stand up for these rights!

That aging faded document in the halls of history
Is fading from the memory of the children who live free.
Men risked their lives and fames and fortunes,
They bled and died so we could all be free!

Can you hear that voice calling you?
Can you hear the patriot cry?
Can you hear the voice of Providence?
Patriot! Stand up for these rights!

A Graceful Unassuming Woman

A graceful unassuming woman of dignity and grace,

Unruffled by the cares of life, content to hold her place.

She shares a tender smile with everyone she meets,

Never an unkindly thought stains the words she speaks.

 

Her grace is slightly hidden and yet, is plainly seen,

Everyone can feel it, but few can really see.

She touches many people because she just is there,

Like the fragrance of a flower drifting on the air.

 

If she were free to speak to you who listen here,

She would say: "Life is good.  You have no need to fear!"

And we would all believe her, she always speaks the truth,

Filled with hope and courage to the aged and the youth.

 

Copyright 2009 by Layne S. Porter

The Dusty Jerusalem Road

On a sojourn to Jerusalem
          So many years ago.
He ran beside his parents
          On that long and dusty road.

He walked with them to Jerusalem
          To celebrate a feast,
To honor and remember
          When they walked with Moses free.

They came unto the feasting
          With a sacrifice in hand
The purpose of their journey
          As along the road He ran.

When the feasting there was ended
          Back on that dusty road
The boy was not among them,
          His whereabouts unknown.

Rushing back to Jerusalem,
          Searching there in vain.
Finally to the temple,
          A place to sooth their pain.

In a place so unexpected;
          But, should not have been.
He reasoned with the doctors,
          Of the law that He had given.

What did He remember then?
          What did he really know?
He was only a boy of twelve
          On that dusty Jerusalem road.

Copyright 2012 by Layne S. Porter