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Flint, MI, US

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Little Grandaughter Of Mine



I love the sound of the little pitty patter
of her little feet, after awaking from her sleep.
She looks upon my face with a warm
and smiling face.
Her hair golden, like a field of wheat
eyes so blue, oh my she is sweet.
This little Grandaughter of mine.
She spreads her love all around,
and there are times she dosn't make a sound.
Lost so deep in her thoughts,
just reading her face, allows me;
to set the pace.
Teaching her in the Old Religion way,
we hold on to every word
God has to say.
Oh this little Grandaughter of mine,
takes away my loneliness
and fills my time.
The reflection of God fills her face
and I keep her dressed in lace.
Oh this little Grandaughter of mine.

Today's Times



Americans waits on pens and needles,
lost in they're thoughts of what
tomorrow may bring.
Wars and talk of wars
is all we hear anymore!
American Shoilders, are waiting
for they're orders.
Saying Good-bye to they're loveone's.
What will tomorrow bring?
Will we laugh? Will we sing?
My Lord holds tomorrow, so let come what may.

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