prayer
As wine that is . . . poured out
On the parched desert . . floor
By faith always it is with care
That nothing . . is ever wasted
On the parched desert . . floor
By faith always it is with care
That nothing . . is ever wasted
Again your precious eye captures me and my hope becomes like the sun Burning gloriously...as the life pleaser but suddenly, reality is as a cloud. To strike again, ... and gone the warmth... To those dreams lived with in hope... By... Simon Auchterlonie
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