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Into greener pastures

The wick of life and quenching dew
Shining iridescent o'er fair hills
On the margin of  green pastures yonder
Where God's eye longs to stay still

Oh the green, lush, tranquil verdure
That sways brushed by cool winds
Moist by cold morning dew
And spectacle's light's many a hue.

Though we cannot forestall fate
There will come a day of drought
And mourn for the pasture barren
And grief for the pasture spring

My longing to stay shall remain
Eternal as memories shall never wane.
Written by EmptyTree
Published
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