Thursday, July 7, 2011


The tempest sweeps the whitewashed sand
The dawning sweeps the sea
The springtime sweeps a dormant land
With emerald chivalry
You sweep me off my feet, darling
When you look at me

The rose will bloom one season, dear
And youth few seasons more
Time is nothing more than years
That wash earth’s little shore
We face each day with faith or fear
As we stand at its door

The tempest rises but to fall
The sun shines but to set
Too soon the fields of greener shawl
Are planted with the dead
We too must heed a Higher Call
And bow the stubborn head

We are but legends in our mind
The only strands of worth
Are not in things we leave behind
To clutter God’s green earth
Things pass as surely as the wind
Or fleeting hour of mirth

The tempest rises but to rest
Within the quiet deep
The sunlight gathers in the west
Time’s shadows quickly creep
Eternity waits in each breath
The soul will never sleep


"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from youselves, it is the gift of God--not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do " (Eph. 2:8,9).

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