One.Step.At.A.Time, word-after-word I change the rhyme,
Each holding meaning and power, revealing a Rose Golden flower,
Each minute, each passing hour, brick by brick rising an Olympian tower.
Individualist by day, gold letters on heart in array,
To emphasize, to convey, the dearest held in conspicuous display,
Woven in her DNA, the words she fails to say.
Changing with each prayer cast, each sentence greater than the last;
Molded by memories of the past, woven by memories of the past;
Tries to walk in Christ alone ever-last, Light feeding her like she is chloroplast.
xx
"Protection is thine, salvation will be mine,
There be none on earth a line-
-I cannot cross or can confine,
Only Thy can define, as was His design."
xx
YOU ARE READING
Whiffs Of NostAlgiA
Poetry...memories , memories, memories.. that's all they are now isn't it...
