Doris Snyder Poems

Why am I to leave my humble abode
For land afar where guns explode
Ruining human temples of God? Why am I to kill or suffer or die
For money, power and greed? Fie!
...

God didn't ask me if I wanted to be
Black, white or yellow.
God didn't ask me where I wanted to be
Hill, sea or meadow. He molded clay, concerted symphony,
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Softly sharing my joy and sorrow,
Gently guiding to rules to follow,
Patiently waiting to hear my babble,
Tenderly easing my trouble,
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Since our Father Created one man with certain attributes
And one woman with similar attributes,
And equally Favored them spiritually
To nourish one unit, a family,
...