Wednesday, July 1, 2009


 


 


 

Little Child

By Peter A. Todd


 


 

Petertoddpoet.com


 


 

Little child, walk with me.

Let me show you a gift of thee.

It is our since time's birth,

Heaven's skies and the green earth.

Take my hand, by my side.

Through God's earth, we will stride.

Look to mountains high above.

Watch the rainbows colors of love.

Beaches stretch of golden sand,

Mighty oceans abiding its hand.

Rain showers, making our flowers grow

On this grassy earth, are here below.

Fields of gardens stretched afar

To feed the children, wherever they are,

Mighty springs of nature's taste.

This, my child, we must not waste.

I can go on and on to list our gifts,

But there is one from which spirits will lift,

The gift of Jesus, who died for our sins,

For us to remain on earth and live.

So my child, when you bed down to sleep,

Thank God, above, for these gifts to keep.

Cherish them with all your heart.

From God's blessings, you will never part.

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