Not Ours To Hold
Not ours to hold with feeble hands,
Not in our hands to boast,
He knows when it takes off and lands,
Same One stands coast to coast.
He calls when he chooses,
We fall like dead roses,
No more in life's tosses.
Books have this told,
Not ours to hold.
Syllable count: HMS
Copyright © Thompson Emate | Year Posted 2022
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