Poetry

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How do we see with our own eyes,should death become a great surprise;the DEITY knows our place of rest,the call to stop or
loll;emotion cannot it forestall,the Spirit listens will not go
missing,how slender is Life's own thread,by GOD'S GRACE,we are all fed,in rigid thought is each milestone bought;while youth
could see where little stones did lay,spread around on the ground,
and forms a hillock,on passing by give one more try;each can leave a reflective sigh,by silent thought a prayer then say,for
a Lad who knew where His Spirit Lay,young or old its now any day;
AMEN CAME BYE,reflect to say.
Joe.

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