A person having fun and then being reminded to spend time with God...
Your boots stomped on the puddles
people frowned
children smiled
The strands of wet hair spread on your
cheek,
the moment was as a child.
Cars honked, the shiny streets invited such
a flowing of
silly behaviour,
A church bell had eyes fixated at
the enormous picture
of the saviour.
There was the reality whispering into a soul so
crowded with the unfinished
projects,
so far from a preachers amen,
The puddles can wait,
I must visit
Dear Lord... It's me again...
Poetry by Donna Lee Marie Balderama
Read 792 times
Written on 2006-06-10 at 01:49
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Lord I will visit your house.
Your boots stomped on the puddles
people frowned
children smiled
The strands of wet hair spread on your
cheek,
the moment was as a child.
Cars honked, the shiny streets invited such
a flowing of
silly behaviour,
A church bell had eyes fixated at
the enormous picture
of the saviour.
There was the reality whispering into a soul so
crowded with the unfinished
projects,
so far from a preachers amen,
The puddles can wait,
I must visit
Dear Lord... It's me again...
Poetry by Donna Lee Marie Balderama
Read 792 times
Written on 2006-06-10 at 01:49
Tags God 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Teala |