That oil leak speaks volumes about human depravity;
Global Warming at the Gores:
Bad Call/Good Form
The Gospel According to BP
That oil leak speaks volumes about human depravity
That leaking derrick in the deep
has robbed the BP brass of sleep.
There’s nothing they can do to stop
the crude from spewing forth.
They’ve tried with robots and “top-kill”
but nothing can provide a seal
to rid the Gulf of Mexico
of raw petroleum.
This tragedy’s a parable.
It pictures every person’s soul.
Our sinful nature’s crude at best
without the grace of God.
We try our best to plug the leak
that’s seen in things we do and speak.
Our selfish and deceitful hearts
are wells of moral filth.
Our good deeds can’t quite cover-up
a pride (that’s toxic and corrupt).
There’s just no way to plug what’s wrong.
It seeps out anyway.
But isn’t that why Jesus came?
To purge our hearts of sludge-like shame?
He gives us all a brand new well
that pumps the oil of joy.
What once was crude is now quite kind.
The lust and greed that filled our minds
is giving way to godly thoughts
that fuel contentedness.
Global Warning at the Gores?
An inconvenient truth about marriage
There’s global warming at the Gores.
In fact, there’s much more heat in store.
“Fat Albert” isn’t quite prepared
for all that Tipper wants.
I wonder if he understands
the climate change within a man
that’s more than weathermen predict
as midlife starts to reign.
And what about his pretty wife?
Did she not know the change-of-life
would bring a mini-pause to what
she’d come to just expect?
Come on, you Gores. Why call it quits?
All marriages have starts and fits.
If you can make it forty years,
you surely could go on.
So here’s an inconvenient truth…
When spouses start to act aloof
the climate change that they’d best heed
is “Why has love grown cold?”
Bad Call/Good Form
What’s more impressive than a perfect game?
The umpire called the runner safe
which caused the hometown fans to chaff
for it was clear that he was out.
The ump had blown the call.
But he spoke up and owned the blame
for spoiling a perfect game
the pitcher thought that he’d achieved.
(Indeed! That he had earned.)
Perfection lost? But not his cool!
Instead of cursing like a fool,
the pitcher graciously replied,
“He goofed, but don’t we all?”
Impressive, no? I’d call that class.
To give that guilty ump a pass.
A perfect game’s commendable,
but grace is grander still.
Deprived of your first perfect game,
would you have done the very same?
or would (more likely) you be prone
to hold a grudge (or worse).
What makes a pitcher worth his salt
is more than throwing without fault.
As seasons come and seasons go,
good form outlasts good arms.