Mom had a wonderful voice. I loved hearing her sing.
Throughout the house her sweet alto voice rang
Doing laundry, cooking and cleaning, her faith could be heard
As she sang of an angel who whispered a comforting word
While fighting perspiration over the ironing board
Or sitting at an organ picking out each chord
Momma sang and played that hymn with praise
And hope that comes with the sunshine's rays
"Whispering hope, oh how welcome thy voice,
Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice."
Troubles aplenty Momma had to face
But with Jesus she faced them with grace
After each dark midnight, after each storm
She bathed in God's light and was made warm
In bad times she was held steady by hope
With that and her faith she could cope
Onward through trials toward her goal
Of deathless rest for her soul
"Whispering hope, oh how welcome thy voice,
Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice."
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 493 times
Written on 2008-09-04 at 20:00
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Whispering Hope
"Whispering Hope" is a hymn my mother often sangThroughout the house her sweet alto voice rang
Doing laundry, cooking and cleaning, her faith could be heard
As she sang of an angel who whispered a comforting word
While fighting perspiration over the ironing board
Or sitting at an organ picking out each chord
Momma sang and played that hymn with praise
And hope that comes with the sunshine's rays
"Whispering hope, oh how welcome thy voice,
Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice."
Troubles aplenty Momma had to face
But with Jesus she faced them with grace
After each dark midnight, after each storm
She bathed in God's light and was made warm
In bad times she was held steady by hope
With that and her faith she could cope
Onward through trials toward her goal
Of deathless rest for her soul
"Whispering hope, oh how welcome thy voice,
Making my heart in its sorrow rejoice."
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 493 times
Written on 2008-09-04 at 20:00
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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