We ask for your justice, oh God,
You who are stronger
then the hardest forged steel
or the diamond tipped drill
You who knew the grief
the endlessness of persecution
the shame of man’s depravity
Come down, oh God,
with Your powerful hand
come down and smite them
In my anger, I cry out to You

You heard me, oh God,
my fervent prayers
beaten down, aching
broken down to the soul
Your hand reached out
held me firm within its grasp
You led me to a place
more peaceful than imagined
in my wildest romantic heart
here it is pleasant and warm
a balm upon my heart

And now, I sing, oh God
I cannot help but to sing
Your endless praises
never cease to leave my lips
I am wrapped, enrapt with You
feeling the depth, the strength
of Your all encompassing love
the entirety of my being

And now, oh God, I cannot help
my tongue will not be silent
for it must tell of Your truths
it must proclaim Your power
Your stories of boundless hope
of fulfilling Your desires
as our Earthly fathers in days gone by
told us the stories of Your love
revealed through your sacred words
Today, still Your stories we tell
each day Your strength
to the wayward soul is shown
saving them from the pits of Helle
holding them up in loving care
saved now, rejoicing!
Free in Your grace —

Penelope Shedrech
C. 2008

Today, We Vote!

Today, we vote
exercise our freedom
elect a change
a new way of life
a new soul
to represent us
on the world stage

Today, we vote
an answer
to our woes
a hope for
the future tense
a new soul
to represent us
on the world stage.

Today, we vote!
what will bring
is brought
before the people
to decide upon
a new soul
to represent us
on the world stage.
Today, WE VOTE!

Penelope Shedrech
C. 2008


The war, it brings its worries
Of loss, and pain, and death.
You hear the soldier’s battle cry,
See missiles fly in their defense.

You watch in self-distractedness,
The war, on surround-sound TV.
A world away, or so it seems,
A far cry from your den’s settee.

You see only the mechanization
Never the deepening, horrid wounds
Of battles bloody aftermath.

You cannot see the children’s cry
Or hear their parent’s screams.
You cannot see the scattered dead
Who now lie in the streets.

Lee McQuinn
0372 – 091120031203

The Children’s Cry

I cry to you in hunger
A deep and endless need.
My home now lies in shatters
Pieces of missile casings
Still seen amid the heap.

I cry to you in hunger
A deep and endless need.
My family, they are missing
Lost amid thousands of refugees.
The bombs, they drive us still further
Searching for a land of peace.

I cry to you in hunger
A deep and endless need.
My body, it is empty
There is not a bite to eat.
Our food, our water
Gone to meet the battle’s fee.

I cry to you in hunger
A deep and endless need.
My soul, you came to “save” it
Arguing against a hellish future
Sister, Brother,
What can be worse than this?

Lee McQuinn
0371 – 091120031202

Response to the Mission

I’ve heard the stories of Jesus,
Of a peace I don’t understand,
For I am but a little child
Amid a war-torn land.

I’ve heard you speak of love and caring
And your songs of praise and worship.
Yet, all day long I see hatred
And hear songs of the missiles
As they spin through the air.

I’ve heard you say God will guide me
To a heaven beyond compare.
I’ve cried out to him from my bunker,
From a city shattered by fear.
Yet, all I hear are more missiles.

I’ve heard you say your God cares.
All I see is pain,
I’ve heard your God loves worship.
All I hear are our screams.
I’ve heard you can see God in everyday,
All I –
See, another missile coming in.

Lee McQuinn
0370 -091120031201

Excuse me, Mr. President

Mr. President, will you tell me,
Where the children are going to live?
Now that you’ve bombed their cities,
Shot their parents, starved their kids?

Sir, please won’t you tell me,
Where the littlest ones will go?
You’ve destroyed the orphanages,
Left their parents dead?
How many places are left,
To house the youngest little ones?
How many cemeteries now left
To hold the dead?

Excuse me, Mr. President,
Where are the children going to live?

Lee McQuinn
0369 – 091120031200

A Note from the Children

Help us, we don’t understand.
We are frightened.
We are confused.
What is real? Whom do we believe?
Why do people hurt one another?
When are our soldiers coming home?

We are angry.
We don’t really understand why,
But we see the anger in our parent’s eyes.
We hate a people, a place,
We have never seen,
But we don’t understand why.
We are helpless.
We don’t know what we can do?
Yet, we fee there is surely something.

Lee McQuinn
0368 – 091120011202