Poem by Perry England
The frost came early in the chill of night
With the breath of morning all was white
Spawning another day, another battle to fight.
Would this one be better and everything all right,
A day of pain, quietude, of a day of flight?
God fills each moment with His wonderful Grace
For each of His beloved children the day to face,
To fill a niche with diamonds of dew, each in place
That the void in the mystical universe is not empty space,
But an intricate and fascinating pattern for all to face.
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