Enter His gates with thanksgiving
And His courts with praise.
Ps.100:4
Thank-you God, grace beams from above
And draws us from our sleep
This Land of Promise burgeons, love
With bud-song none can keep
Dawn lights earth’s ancient avenue
We touch down trust-shod feet
Where melodies age-old yet new
Pour from hope’s music sheet
The garden spills in flowers for
A few short hours then
The bud that bloomed in perfect form
Is turned to dust again
Time’s treasure-trove of moments, love
Is such a precious thing
That it behooves each one of us
To sing and sing and sing
…and praise God for this gift of grace
Where a pale veil exists
To separate us from His face
With only Time betwixt
© Janet Martin
Are you writing about being fifty?, asked Victoria
Nope, I replied
Good! Age is just a number, she said
And I agreed.
Age is just the number
Not life's grief or happiness
Each year a declaration
Of God's tender faithfulness
Age is just a number
That tallies the ebb and flow
Of dawn to dusk, then tells the years
That by His grace we go
Age is just a number, love
A little kiss and tell
Age is just a number
That tallies the ebb and flow
Of dawn to dusk, then tells the years
That by His grace we go
Age is just a number, love
A little kiss and tell
Thus we should wear the age we are
And try to wear it well
So cute what Victoria said:) She must of assumed you have a trove of thoughts on it already...:) Love the post last night too...perfect wrap up..
ReplyDeleteNow the sequel..