Pink Mallows “A Woodland Reverie”
There is a glade where badgers bound
Where
all is peace and gentle sound
Of woodland life.
Leaves whisper, soft grey
squirrels run,
And there, with magic light, the sun
Shines upon jewels
rosy, rare,
The wild pink mallows growing there
In modest pride.
Their
colours gay and artless grace
Perfect the beauty of that
place.
Thanks be to God for lovely things,
The
daily pleasures nature brings
To lift our hearts.
Like pretty gardens
fresh and neat
Fronting homes along the street.
It makes one feel the
people there
Are sorts of folk who really care.
Despite the gloom
The
misery and sin of the land,
Loving kindness comes from God’s hand
.
’Tis many a year alas
Since through
that glade I’d pass
Where mallows grew.
There are hardships and
trials cruel
To give soul and character rare fuel.
But here and there and
all around
Glimpses of joy may still be found
For His love is ever
true.
In my mind I see clear the past,
May it stay with me until the
last.
Dorothea Keable