Chapel of glass on the hillsidePlace of shady restHere the soul can quietSongbird silent on her nest.Sanctuary in the woodsPlace for prayer and praise;Here my heart can listenLearn Your holy ways.

Whose finger, like my mother'sRolled this ribbon of red satinInto swirls and curls?Who smoothed it round and roundTied it in the freshly washed Hair of a child Headed to Sunday School?

We're painting circley summer sunshines,Flower pots full of bright yellow dandelions,Clouds sweetly sailing on blue-blue sky.We can paint horses galloping by!We're painting kites on wind, boats on lake watersWe're stirring and mixing paints of all colors,We're painting bicycles, flags, and fireworks,Purple houses with chimneys like smokestacks,Crooked square windows and open front doors,Gramps on his tractor... Continue Reading →