Stories

The gentle swing of time
That marks the beat of minutes
Which swift do march round the clock
To fill the hours of our days
Metronome beating the pace of years
As we our histories write
Each day another page we fill
Some with ink and some with tears
'Till at last our story's told
At the end all books shall be opened
And read aloud before our God
Then we shall truly see our measure
And how our stories are all entwined
How our days have blessed each other!

   Copyright © 01/01/2012 Camp Huntington