The Morning Speaks With Skylarks Singing - Part 2
I thought to when my mother took my hand.
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
(toys which I could ill-afford;
a Batman cape,
a red fire engine.)
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds,
loud, and mouthing their
wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.
I never lost my youthfulness, my
joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times,
in Jesus' presence,
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings,
feel content
that tribulation never came to trouble me.
A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth,
to all men
greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet
while the village sleeps and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping,
perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow!
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2008
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