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He described things our family actually used to do when I was a child- just forty five years or so ago it really WAS a different world. To MY way of thinking, a BETTER world. Much better.
A WOODED GLEN
Come, let’s stroll to a wooded glen On an early summer morn’ As sunlight breaks through the mist And a brand-new day is born; The plaintive call of nightbird yields To woodfolks’ noisy chatter— They let us know it’s their realm And is a private matter! The pathway that we know so well Now we can hardly see, For the buttercups and violets Have concealed it gloriously!
The distant barking of a dog Calls cattle from a hill, And contentment of the peaceful scene Brings an inner thrill; As we walk along bemused We are taken by surprise— Around a bend a forbidden scene Greets our startled eyes! A mother deer with timid fawn Grazes peacefully in the dell, Were they aware that we were here, It would break the magic spell!
Then suddenly a blue jay screams Resentment at our intrusion, We look again, the deer are gone— Was it an illusion? The sun breaks through, sky turns blue, As we approach the edge— A few more steps to the road, Then jump a clump of hedge! As happily we head for home And the sun warms the glist’ning sod, Our hearts are high because we’ve been Near to the throne of God!
Original work written by Clarence W. Hessler © 2007 Steven A. Hessler All Rights Reserved
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