Instead I will put on boots, wear an old jacket,
let my greying hair blow in the breeze. I will
put the collar on the dog, take the lead with
callused hands, watch white clouds
sail over moorland hills,
and listen to the music of the river
as it carries my prayers to the sea.
sally james
Sally, I like the way the poem flows. The prayer line at the end is right.
Prayers are best in open air.
Smiles.
Gary
Gary's book, A River Transformed at http://www.lulu.com/content/178110
Gar's blog at http://garydawg.blogspot.com/
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