Apart From Me
Somber silly little Setter, English; painting trapped himself in the side yard whimpering, howling away wildly.
Sunscreen-on, moseying on over, in His tenderness He offers a helping hand. Hot Summers cool vapors the blessings found here, there to and fro leaning midst the still lulling; gentle calling of the Rains.
Yes the Grace of God, in His joy humming, arriving just in time, and so is Patience the greater venture I suppose the eminent virtue.
His Love always; Honest, Open... Willing already beholden... . Far beyond the wreck I make for myself and others... chains stretched bounded securing me yes, my freedom in kind stripped away from me given in the effort this provisional very prominence preceding me when in denial of these facts.
Copyright © James Long | Year Posted 2012
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