Poetry

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Where is that place that's named content;out of sight yet in light,not
amist the throng;is it found above the ground,or where searchers seek on
mountain's peak,down below where river's flow;each day they knowas
time can show,how thought's surprise and sleep may extendour own why's,
remember in yesterday's pages;if time had a voice it may say take you're
choice,in our developing age i may write in my page;just use your own
gauge,try be content like a sage;let time be that place,till GOD;show's us HIS FACE,

tthere's no debthto his Grace,so amen now embrace.
Joe.
j

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