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Keydra

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

2 poems·Since November 2012
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Calling Help

November 19, 2012
Fields golden as the sun Bees buzzing up in swirls A blow of faint wind Sent silent whispers in my ears Leaves twirl with no fear Clouds dance as in slow motion Skies open with great intensity And He grabs His children With no yields from the fields Flights taken to the heights With open palms approaching His children reach for assistance From Father who gave them wings And cherish them with warmth Like a mother does her child As gates of pearls widen Of rays a blinding Angels lift siblings to Father For spoon feeding the knowledge To lead their next of keen Into a life with no strife But with no witnesses
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