Thursday, November 22, 2012

Of Under-estimations





From our soiled and sullied state
Beneath complaint we fume and fuss
And often under-estimate
The love our Father has for us

But blame Him when the wind blows ill
Not understanding His mercy
Nor perfect love that tunes His will

Beneath life’s toil and trouble weight
Of passion, pain, perplexity
Sometimes we under-estimate
Our Father’s love for you and me

© Janet Martin


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