Dr Dodiddily and the Dee-Dot's : Blog

Dr Dodiddily and the Dee-Dot's : Blog:
"The Burial of Moses - Mrs C. F. Alexander. A wonderful piece of Poetry
Dr. Dodiddily and the Dee Dot's
and her own views of the Holy Land Nebo

THE DEATH OF MOSES.

And the Lord spake unto Moses that self-same day, saying. Get thee up into this mountain Abarim, unto mount Nebo, which is in the land of Moab, that is over against Jericho; and behold the land of Canaan, which I give unto the children of Israel for a possession :
And die in the mount whither thou goest up, and be gathered unto thy people; as Aaron thy brother dies in mount Hor, and was gathered unto his people:
Because ye trespassed against me among the children of Israel at the waters of Meribah-Kadesh, in the wilderness of Zin; because ye sanctified me not in the midst of the children of Israel.So Moses the servant of the Lord died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord. And he buried him there in the valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor :
Yet thou shalt see the land before thee; but thou shalt not go thither unto the land which I give children of Israel. Deuteronomy: parts of chapters xxxii and xxxiv

To climb the 4,000 feet to the top of Mount Nebo would have posed a significant physical challenge for a person of any age. The Scripture records, however, that 'Although Moses was one hundred and twenty years old when he died, his eye was not dim, nor his vigour abated' (Deut 34:7). God provided Moses with continued keen eyesight, so he could see the Promised Land from north to west to south, and with the physical stamina to climb the mountain to view it. On the Plains of Moab there was a month of mourning but no funeral or burial. Moses never had to climb down from the mountain. He never had to report to the people what he had seen. Perhaps he never had to explain why he would not be leading them across the river into the Land. They watched him leave the camp and begin his climb, following his figure until it was out of sight. They waited for him to come down, but they never saw him again. Had Moses told them why he was climbing the mountain, a somewhat unusual act for their aged leader? How many times would they have looked up to those heights, as they mourned below, wondering exactly what had transpired on the 4,000 foot heights of Mount Nebo?


The Burial of Moses

By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab
There lies a lonely grave,
But no man dug that sepulcher,
And no man saw it e'er ;
For the angels of God upturned the sod,
And laid the dead man there.

Thus was the grandest funeral
That ever passed on earth;
But no man heard the tramping,
Or saw the train go forth -
Noiselessly as the daylight
Comes when the night is done,
And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek
Grows into the great sun :

Noiselessly as the springtime
Her crown of verdure waves,
And all the trees on all the hills
Open their thousand leaves ;
So, without sound of music,
Or voice of them that wept,
Silently down from the mountain's crown
The great procession swept.

Perchance the bald old eagle
On gray Beth-peor's height,
Out of his rocky eyrie,
Looked on the wondrous sight;
Perchance the lion stalking
Still shuns that hallowed spot,
For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knoweth not.

But when the warrior dieth,
His comrades in the war,
With arms reversed, and muffled drum,
Follow the funeral car ;
They show the banners taken,
They tell his battles won,
And after him lead his masterless steed,
While peals the minute gun.

Amid the nobles of the land
Men lay the sage to rest,
And give the bard an honoured place,
With costly marble drest,
In the great minster transept,
Where lights like glories fall,
And the organ rings, and the sweet choir sings,
Along the emblazoned wall.

This was the truest warrior
That ever buckled sword,
This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word ;
And never earth's philosopher
Traced with his golden pen
On the deathless page, truths half so sage
As he wrote down for men.

And had he not high honour,
The hillside for his pall,
To lie in state while angels wait
With stars for tapers tall,
And the dark rock pines, like tossing plumes,
Over his bier to wave,
And God's own hand, in that lonely land,
To lay him in the grave ?

In that strange grave without a name,
Whence his uncoffined clay
Shall break again, O wondrous thought !
Before the Judgment day,
And stand with glory wrapt around
On the hills he never trod,
And speak of the strife that won our life,
With the Incarnate Son of God.

O lonely grave in Moab's land !
O dark Beth-peor's hill !
Speak to these curious hearts of ours,
And teach them to be still.
God hath his mysterious of grace,
Ways that we cannot tell ;
He hides them deep like the hidden sleep
Of him He loved so well.

Cecil Frances Alexander

In a way it is a little sad that a man who did so much for the Israelites, should have been allowed to die in the valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor, a place whose name bought to mind not greatness but that of a demon:


A famous mountain beyond the Jordan. Nebo and Pisgah were neighbouring mountains.

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Dodie's Dream World : Blog

Dodie's Dream World : Blog: "A Little something by my good self, of course it is on my Welsh Page, Cymru. Enjoy.
Dodies Dream World
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You can turn off the music by clicking on the sound button, left bottom corner of picture frame.
http://apps.rockyou.com/rockyou.swf?instanceid=158124181
I wrote the poem below not long after we moved into our house in Sychdyn. It had been empty a while and the garden was in the most dreadful state. Every plant was being choked by it's neighbour, in fact it was so bad we had to wear our motor bike gloves and jacket to keep the thorns off us. but it was worth it. The picture below is of yet our home now, after all the hard work of making London Road beautiful we moved here to Pontybodkin and once more took at least three years getting it in to shape.. I have as I said wrote this piece of poetry on the completion of ' London Road, Sychdyn.
Sad to say, the house was resold and the garden has vanished, it is all law. It still has a few bits of us still there, including our beautiful Cairn Terrier Little Kelly, who passed away and is buried in the garden. Hush, I'm not telling you where.
Seligor of Seligor's Castle etc.

SWEET RELIEF

the back garden before

Strangled by nature, turned brown under sodden strands of wilting yellow.
Choked stems try to reach up to catch hold of the suns powerful rays.
Thorns dig deep into the fragile growth of youth,
gouging out crevasses that will never be healed.
Dying....all around the cries of starvation can be heard on the wind.
Then new voices are heard, hands wrestle with the undergrowth,
pulling, twisting, turning, letting light through to the darkened soil.

Oh sweet relief.... I can feel a breeze upon my face.
Look, look, there is a light. There, high above me, a faint light shining.
Is this me, saved. Are we all to be saved from this hell that has befallen us.
Reach out, reach up, climb the sunbeam to a new life,
stretch your backs, flex your arms, lift your heads high.
Fresh mown hay gives way to a blanket of green.
Birds sing in the trees above us, bees fly deep into our bellies,
taste the sweet honey which flows freely from within us.

Days pass by, life gets stronger, hearts begin to beat again.
Peach and purple, azure and turquoise, russet and gold.
Colour creeps across the horizon like a rainbow reborn.
Scarlet fuchsia dance gaily above the chamomile lawn.
Tangerine montbretia sway to and fro, like fronds of fire, swaying
beneath the lilac buddleia which is, in turn kissed gently by the painted lady.

Sweet... sweet perfume fills the air, carried on the wind to each hidden corner.
The sickly smell of the honeysuckle tells us that night is descending,
Scented stock adds to the evenings mystic aroma.
Tomorrow we shall awake and feel the dew on our petals,
see the whiteness of the clouds in the summer sky,
feel the softness of the rose petals as they fall upon our delicate blades.

Tomorrow we shall fill our bodies with the silver raindrops
as they fall to the sepia ground beneath our leaves.
Tenderly stretch our roots deeper into the soft earth below.
But now to sleep, to dream in the shadows.
Sleeping quietly, waking sometime, then drifting back to sleep.
The moonlight kisses us whilst we rest, then comes the morning
and we awake knowing we have been blessed.




Written by Dorothy Milnes Simm©1999
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Say thannks to Bed for these wonderful little tales. ht6tp://diddilydeedot.zoomshare.com/

 Not everything about Sunday Tales has to be serious,
These were put together by Ben Witherington;

The Wisdom of Children in Sunday School 

- Or Fractured Bible Tales

The  Sunday school teacher was carefully explaining the story of Elijah the  Prophet and the false prophets of Baal. She explained how Elijah built the  altar, put wood upon it, cut the steer in pieces, and laid it upon the altar.   And then, Elijah commanded the people of God to fill four barrels of water  and pour it over the altar. He had them do this four times "Now, said the  teacher, "can anyone in the class tell me why the Lord would have Elijah pour  water over the steer on the altar?"
A  little girl in the back of the room started waving her hand, "I know! I  know!" she said, "To make the gravy!!"

The  Sunday School teacher was describing how Lot's wife looked back and turned  into a pillar of salt, when little Jason interrupted, "My Mummy looked back  once, while she was driving," he announced triumphantly, "and she turned into  a telephone pole!"

A  Sunday school teacher was telling her class the
story of the Good Samaritan, in which a man was beaten, robbed and left
for dead. She described the situation in vivid detail so her students
would catch the drama. Then, she asked the class, "If you saw a person
lying on the
roadside, all wounded and  bleeding, what would you do?"  A thoughtful little girl broke the hushed  silence, "I think I'd throw up."

A  Sunday school teacher asked, "Johnny, do you think Noah did a lot of fishing  when he was on the Ark?" "No", replied little David, 'cause he only had two worms!"

A  Sunday school teacher said to her children, " We have been learning how  powerful kings and queens were in Bible times. But, there is a higher power.   Can anybody tell me what it is?"
One child blurted out,  "Aces!"

There  was a very gracious lady who was mailing an old family Bible to her  brother  in another part of the country "Is there anything breakable in here?" asked  the postal clerk. "Only the Ten Commandments," answered the lady.

BUMPER STICKER SEEN ON AMISH BUGGY

While  driving in west Pennsylvania , a  family caught up to an Amish carriage. The owner of the carriage obviously  had a sense of humor, because attached to the back of the carriage was a hand  printed sign....
"Energy efficient vehicle: Runs on oats and grass.   Caution: Do not step in exhaust."

Sunday  after church, a Mother asked her very young daughter what the lesson was about.  The daughter answered, "Don't be scared, you'll get your quilt." Needless to  say, the Mum was perplexed. Later in the day, the pastor stopped by for tea  and the Mother asked him what that morning's Sunday school lesson was about.  He  said "Be not afraid, thy comforter is coming."

Nine-year-old  Joey, was asked by his mother what he had learned in Sunday school.
"Well,  Mom, our teacher told us how God sent Moses behind enemy lines on a rescue  mission to lead the Israelites out of Egypt .. When  he got to the Red Sea , he had his

army  build a pontoon bridge and all the people walked across safely. Then,  he radioed headquarters for reinforcements. They sent bombers to blow up  the bridge and all the Israelites were saved."
 "Now, Joey, is that really  what your teacher taught you?" his mother asked.
"Well, no, Mum. But, if I  told it the way the teacher did, you'd  never believe it!"

A  Sunday School teacher decided to have her young class memorize one of the  most quoted passages in the Bible; Psalm 23.

She gave the youngsters a month  to learn the verse. Little Rick excited about the task -- but, he just  couldn't remember the Psalm. After much practice, he could barely get past  the first line.  On the day that the kids were scheduled to recite Psalm 23  in front of the congregation, Ricky was so nervous. When it was his turn, he  stepped up to the microphone and said proudly, "The Lord is my Shepherd, and  that's all I need to know."

A little bit of A A Milne and the Three Foxes who didn't wear sockses, all at diddilydeedot's dreamland

Diddilydeedot's Dream-Land

The Three Foxes
by A. A. Milne

Once upon a time there were three little foxes
Who didn't wear stockings, and they didn't wear sockses,
But they all had handkerchiefs to blow their noses,
And they kept their handkerchiefs in cardboard boxes.

They lived in the forest in three little houses,
And they didn't wear coats, and they didn't wear trousies,
They ran through the woods on their little bare tootsies,
And the played "Touch Last" with a family of mouses.


The didn't go shopping in the High Street shopses,
But caught what they wanted in the wood and copses.
They all went fishing, and they caught three wormses
They went out hunting, and they caught three wopses.

They went to a Fair, and they all won prizes -
Three plum-puddingses and three mince pieses.
They rode on elephants and swang on swingses,
And hit three coconuts at coconut shieses.

That's all I know of the three little foxes
Who kept their handkerchiefs in cardboard boxes,
They lived in the forest in three little houses,,
But they didn't wear coats and they didn't wear trousies,
And they didn't wear stockings and they didn't wear sockses.

what a wonderful man was A.A.Milne.