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Storms will come and lightning flash
And grand rivers swell their sides
Strong and tall I face the devilís wind
Where dire darkness does abide

But the light of an angel fell on me
I saw the green flash of her eyes
And a worried heart did find itís place
For the comfort I long denied

She touched her hand gently to my face
A face beat by sun, wind, rain
I live now to see her sweet sweet smile
And fear I wonít see it again

Was I just too hard a traveling man
Content to tarry on a weary road
While dreaming of a feathered bed
Or hair that tumbled down gold

Oh that I could have just one kiss
Ruby lips and a favored touch
That my roughness fell away to grace
Pray is what I ask too much


ken lehnig(c)2008 Version

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Why is doing what you love the hardest thing to do? Is it because failing what you thought defined you would be too devastating a thing from which to recover? If so, we stay where mere accident has left us.


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The following comments are for "Respite"
by jonpenny





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