"Bubbling up in our own good time-- online."
Groundwaters Publishing, LLC
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Volume 4 Issue 4
Page 4
Page 4
We are born to a field
Of dreams and promise
All golden light, love, mothers sweet smile.
Father’s callused hands as hard as iron yet soft as silk.
They guide us through the storms of life
With the touch of love and hope.
They do their best to steer us right,
Pick us up when we fall, cry when we cry,
But try not to show it.
To be the rock we can cling to
When we are adrift
As the sands of time run on
And the quicksand of life
Catches our dreams
The promise is not always
What we hoped
But the love in the smile
And silky touch
Is there to guide us home.
Of dreams and promise
All golden light, love, mothers sweet smile.
Father’s callused hands as hard as iron yet soft as silk.
They guide us through the storms of life
With the touch of love and hope.
They do their best to steer us right,
Pick us up when we fall, cry when we cry,
But try not to show it.
To be the rock we can cling to
When we are adrift
As the sands of time run on
And the quicksand of life
Catches our dreams
The promise is not always
What we hoped
But the love in the smile
And silky touch
Is there to guide us home.
| Heritage By Herbert Medlin |