My Sandbox
There are precious words buried deep
In the sandbox where i play
And like a grinning undertaker i exhume them
And gently press them into page.
They come to life in verse and rhyme
Cryptic messages and parables are spawned
They use me at their beck and call
Ive become their willing pawn
Why ive been chosen to spread their word
Only God alone knows why
But i give him thanks for these precious words
Its a gift that makes me cry.
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