Gott is de Liebe

I can still hear the tick of the old chime clock
I can still hear the creak of her chair as she’d rock
Giggling cousins not growing sleepy
Grandma would sing, “Gott is de Liebe”

The humming and purring of her treadle machine
Is silent at last every evening
Singing and hoping two girls would grow sleepy
“Gott is de Liebe, Gott is de Liebe”

The tock of the clock with its long doleful chime
Kept rhythm as she’d rock in her dear worship time
Her gentle tone lulled two girls growing sleepy
“Gott is de Liebe, Gott is de Leibe”

And still in the evening sometimes I can hear
My sweet Grandma singing her precious hymn dear
It comforts my mind as I grow sleepy
“Gott is de Leibe, Gott is de Leibe”

All Rights Reserved

Janet Martin

This is a patch in my 'memory quilt'.