On the Seventh Day
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On the seventh day of creation God rested,
it had been a very busy week of creating;
he looked at all he had done with a sigh,
praying that everything would go as planned.
I also rest on the seventh day and think,
I thank God for my existence and this world;
and I rest my mind and my soul and body,
just like God must have done on his seventh day.
I am sure each seventh day he must look down,
for things have not gone exactly as planned;
he reaches out his hand to us to help the way
but so many just want to work or play that day.
God, must have been so tired on the seventh day,
look at the beautiful world he created for us;
and the beautiful world he watches being destroyed,
I imagine he must weep each seventh day.
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October 23, 2018
Poetry/Verse/On The Seventh Day
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1077-521-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2018
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