A person having fun and then being reminded to spend time with God...

Lord I will visit your house.

Your boots stomped on the puddles
people frowned
children smiled
The strands of wet hair spread on your
the moment was as a child.
Cars honked, the shiny streets invited such
a flowing of
silly behaviour,
A church bell had eyes fixated at
the enormous picture
of the saviour.
There was the reality whispering into a soul so
crowded with the unfinished
so far from a preachers amen,
The puddles can wait,
I must visit
Dear Lord... It's me again...

Poetry by Donna Lee Marie Balderama
Read 674 times
Written on 2006-06-10 at 01:49

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Very deep and beautiful--great job!