Bird's Stop Singing
Birds stop singing
That summer spring morn
The Son of God
His head forlorn
No need to tremble
The gardens scene
With men and angels
For friends look mean
Come they say see
The simple man
Hands together
With touch the plan
No need to listen
The whispers cry
For will not wishes
To live To die
Yet sparrows simple
And lilies tilt
Upon a rock
The riches built
Then look no longer
His feet His Side
With all or nothing
And there abide
With near and closer
A vision see
The man The moment
Upon a tree
For with His wisdom
He bore and kept
The few the faithful
With crosses yet
Dedicated to
JP Munhall
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