Before the world is wide awake
And while its eyes are still half-closed
Each hill blue-kissed with mist, the lake
A looking glass, each rose reposed
And while the air is plush with hush
The country-side soft brushed with frost
Before the busy bustle-rush
Distracts us from frames mercy-tossed
Before the sun tickles Time’s sand
And the command of Duty hails
We ought to reach and touch the Hand
Of He whose Kindness never fails
© Janet Martin
This poem blessed my heart. So lovely!
ReplyDeleteThank-you, Nwamaka:) God Bless.
DeleteLove this a lot, Janet. The mornings are the best for communing with the Maker.
ReplyDeletethank-you Dayle, and I think so too! It's my favorite time of living!
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