Wednesday, July 8, 2009

The 15th-Mile Chapel

Mist in a valley, fresh and green
Chirps and twits how sweet they sing
Smooth as cream is the cool, damp air
Twinkle twinkle goes Nature's funfair

Chicken, chicks and butterflies
Baby blues of clear blue skies
Shiny as black coal is the household pet
Woe it has white toes, still hunter of rats

Cool be the floor, warm is the spread
Coziness is tea and of needs taken cared
Merry is news of loved ones, and from
Even merrier the hymns of sunshine after storm

Words we speak, off the tongue they roll
Language of companionship, language of the soul
Remember them, remember, less come another day,
I forget how they are said, then dismay, dismay.

1 comment:

  1. you. wrote. this. :D so i shall be inspired.

    words we don't speak and the
    songs we don't sing and yet
    something remains in the
    breeze that we breathe and it
    reads, us
    joyfully, candidly
    brings, us
    out of the world to the
    heavens above for a
    taste of the Joy that is
    given to us by the
    one, God.
    happily, smilingly:
    thank, God, for you.

    heh. p.s: read according to the rhythm.

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