In His Presence
Hair as black as a raven's wing,
voice of an angel when he sings,
words you wish you'd strung together,
though you know, he did it better.
Ice blue eyes like precious gems,
close to God you feel with him,
awed and privileged to be close,
Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
Sometimes his grace is hard to bear,
side-by-side we can't compare,
when we die our paths won't cross,
and only we will mourn the loss.
©Danielle White
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