Poetry

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In a way it come's to stay;we call it Day begins at dawn we call it the Morn,
until midnight's call;just another day in May unlike any other is its call
forever,no louder sound  from sleep is found;awoken too a World that's
Round,includes the many turn's and twist's some plan's are lost in the
distant mist;will it last forever who is that clever;we are alway's now in
tow somehow, good to know how our limit's go;in the space we get need
our time then fret,or become a an ardent Soul's inlet,that may occur when
GOD'S GRACE WE GET;believe in nothing that's a stranger fraught with
danger,a lack of need what's better than GOD'S  FAITH IN  DEED,as a poor
sinner am i allowed to plead,amen says pray sounds okay;GOD BLESS for
now anyway.
Joe.

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