Accompany
My settlement, then is to Thee
my soul, a victor ~ a victory.
In him, truth spoken seems to free
a way, a hope, a place to be.
In him, a faith, some harmony
a grace, a waiting, a reprieve.
A trace of heart, not bigotry
that tries my mind, condensed esprit!
Oh Father, time's insured believe
is prayer, rhyme's faith ~ accompany!
Copyright © Paula Larson | Year Posted 2006
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