I found an old guitar clip but I couldn’t find my pen

words started pouring out just when I dug my heels in,

sitting my old chair pass down a generation,

words that slip

age after age

winter after winter,

horns are blowing,

drifting me back

where God calls the roll,

“to be absent in the body, to be present with the Lord”,

please tell everybody – when God calls the roll

I’ll be down here praying, working

keep those old sayings,

loving my neighbor like everybody should

holding my little darlings,

telling them with goodness

kindness flows like river

patience grows like olive branches, out on the hill

God watches over us

brooding over those old hens

I’ll be

tending to the gardens of life

when God calls the roll

kindness sister Krissy