Tuesday, January 19, 2010

A New Kind of Grace


I’d love to wander alone with you
Past the winter where skies are blue
And the kiss of the sun would warm our bare-feet
In the late after-noon in solitude sweet
The sigh of the breeze and the stir of the grass
The breath of the trees as we tip-toe past
Would be the music of our choice
As we roam the hills beyond the noise
Of everything plain and common-place
Discovering again,a new kind of grace

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

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