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"FORSYTHIA"
God's
mysteries and mercies are so wonderful to behold Why have we become so futile, apaced, seeking riches and
gold? No longer is forsythia the anticipation of our mind Because we are so intrinsically, materialistically blind
Our facade of being Hessians when we are ruffians This folly is not divine grace from God's right hand, Queue is the plight of so many in this human population Despite El Shaddai's providence, so bountiful, to repast all
nations
Our chronicling impishness is nothing but camphor Thus our children lack gratitude, respect and honor, When tragedy strikes we quickly prostrate in repentance As time passes, impious maladies are recrudescence
Lord, help us to wear cardigans of Immanuel's grace As this sojourner's life foyer is surely stealing apace, Interspersed words of blessings in all we do and say For surely the futility of mammon we would loose our way
Let our sombres be not of gold and glory but love and mercy Lest the eiderdown of our children become tragedy, May our intolerance and self-righteousness be emitted
resignedly That our minstrels be hallelujahs for eternity...
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