Hath not God dealt His fairest touch
Like perfect daisies in the spring
And violets in the underbrush
Has He not formed the sweetest thing
To beautify this sad old world
When He formed a little girl
Did He not take the finest thread
To weave her crown of innocence
And were not heavens teardrops shed
To place her in this insolence?
But yet He chose to grace this world
With heavens best; a little girl
He formed from rosebud her sweet lips
And from the sunsets ruby hue
He brushed her cheeks; her fingertips
Held by God now touches you
As He places in this world
His very best; a little girl
All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!