Sunday, 29 May 2016

WHISPERS


The sun kissed my face,
It played me gently with grace,

The sky was blue and white,
A perfect union of dark and bright,

The hills lay still and proud,
On them played the dancing cloud,

And while I wondered, "where is God's stead?,
The wind passed and whispered.....

"It is here, it is there,
It is not there, it is not here"

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