day of rest STL through the windowglass 65 mph STL, across the street from Bellefontaine Cemetery House of Prayer. The Lords House of Prayer Motto: psalm 122:1″ I WAS GLAD WHEN THEY SAID UNTO ME,LET US GO INTO THE HOUSE OF THE LORD” Founding Pastor Prophetess Pearl Gary. 5481 Union Blvd, St. Louis (MO), 63115, United States“I would like to extend to you an open invitation to The Lord’s House of Prayer. A place where your problems are our problems and my success is your success. If you say that The Lord’s House of Prayer is not the church for you then I encourage you to attend another church because GOD HAS NEED OF YOU.”
Prototype Smiley Face 1974 A slight adjustment to the nose and we are there. Roadside folk art can be truly terrifying. Modern (this century) road side art in Charlottesville.
tribes Francis Fauquier. An Essay on Ways and Means for Raising Money for the Support of the Present War, without Increasing the Public Debts (1756) : Fauquier wrote this essay, which generated significant public debate, in the context of the Seven Years’ War with France. In it, he argued that the war would be too expensive for the government to finance by increasing taxes on manufacturers or workers, and suggested that taxes be levied on houses instead. In a second edition he added arguments in favour of a capitation tax based on estates and consumption.–Wikipedia downtown Warrenton Saturday every Saturday
O My People VIf the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spentIf the unheard, unspokenWord is unspoken, unheard;Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,The Word without a word, the Word withinThe world and for the world;And the light shone in darkness andAgainst the Word the unstilled world still whirledAbout the centre of the silent Word. O my people, what have I done unto thee.Where shall the word be found, where will the wordResound? Not here, there is not enough silenceNot on the sea or on the islands, notOn the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,For those who walk in darknessBoth in the day time and in the night timeThe right time and the right place are not hereNo place of grace for those who avoid the faceNo time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and denythe voice Ash Wednesday, T.S.Eliot, 1930
lament This is my grave of destiny here must I ever lie.The path I’ve trod through all my life has ended so let me die.All my life I’ve wondered just when my turn would come.And with a very honest hope my destiny is wonBut if I’ve won no one will knowAnd all should wonder whyA man as good and kind as I should really have to die.