Poetry

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Sing to me sweet Jesus.
Lull me into sleep.
Let me hide beneath your wings,
where my soul doth keep.
Dream me to the ocean,
to breathe the salted air,
dip my toes into the sea,
breezes through my hair.
Dream me to the mountain tops,
where the eagles soar.
Dance with me,
through morning fields,
until I dance no more.
Dream me to my Fathers arms.
Dream me into Light.
Dream me into perfect Peace.
Rest my heart this night.

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Philippians 4:8,

'Finally brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are lovely,whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.'

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