Merwin Rylaarsdam Poet Rhyme

The Old Wooden Church

The old wooden church had seen better days
of family times and God-fixed praise; 
of mournful whiles with countless tears, 
and sad goodbyes throughout the years. 

For those who look out toward her way
they see a shell from yesterday. 
No pastor there, the children gone; 
no parents left to carry on. 

But deep in the hearts of those she knew
she lives there still where their souls grew. 
No, she’s not dead as you’d suppose; 
she’s planted elsewhere, and there she grows.

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