Heather Dickerson (7/9/1994)
The river thrashes back and forth, but the beauty is unheard.
Are you willing to listen and hear the song?
The children laugh and look at the world in wonder.
Won't you look and cherish their innocents?
The sun is warm as it comforts those who were cold.
Don't you feel and know the gift you were given?
Of all God's creations, we miss the greatest ones.
Comments about this poem (Beauty by Heather Dickerson )
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