A place in the sun, it's there I want to run. . . Orange and yellow palette brush my face, they dry my wells of fears and so I won, I-- slowly flower from God's skirt of grace. Unfailing is His love shown sweet to His face, I eagerly crave to behold in million tons as to entwine in His warmth: My Master race. A place in the sun, it's there I want to run. . . Rainbow peeping after some raging storm spun; His reminder that we: His people must chase infant days to grow better with our love ones. Orange and yellow palette brush my face for God so kind. My pains, He soothes and erase. Tender are His words as I read them one by one helping me be fearless yet humble with my pace. They dry my wells of fears and so I won-- then my heart soar high, I have some fun. Evil always haunts but with Him, all I can evade, hence, troubles are little but close to none. I slowly flower from God's skirt of grace. . . God crashes darkness with love not by gun. Must we go elsewhere when He is the best hiding place? God is everything before even life began God our undefeatable fortress-- His base a place in the sun.
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