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
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