Poetry

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And, now dear Spirit what is it that you wish to know;is it this heart of clay that only GOD can show,
if time could speak where all poorit's seek,to find within a heart's own chamber then,is faith the key
where word can see;and life becomes a purer we,hearts of stone are not at home,wandered where
forget's about,heart's grace is out heart's flaws are in,all mortal's bone,and skin;responds too sin
poor loser's win,so sad again;who finds a way when heart's can pray,become a living soul to-day,
GOD'Sgrace can say,repent; who could invent,the heart GOD SENT.
Joe.

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