Poetry By Ken in Rainbow Colors




Our old home along the way
Has withered into decay
But fresh is memory of Mother
Who sang as no other.

Though life was very hard
She paid that little regard,
She let her songs of praise
Comfort hardship days.

I hear the voice crystal clear
Of long past yesteryear,
Her singing echoes in mind
From childhood left behind.

Mother sweet Mother dearest
Tho' your song isn't clearest,
If you could sing just one more
As I listen from behind the door.

Mother couldn't carry a note
But sang every hymn wrote,
She knew every gospel song
And sang them all day long.

My dear Mother couldn't sing
But she let those hymns ring,
At the top of a wavering voice
She praised God and rejoiced.

With poverty she would cope
By singing songs of hope,
Her voice rang from wall to wall
As she thanked God for it all.

We considered her singing art
For not one of us had the heart
To tell her that when she sang
It sounded like broken slang.

No, my Momma couldn't sing good
But it was for God we understood,
We heard bad singing with no choice
But God heard a beautiful voice.

Now as a songbird with angel wings
She lifts her sweet voice and sings
To listeners in the Promised-Land,
She sings for God in His angel band.



©Written by: Kenneth J. Ellison 04-30-07

Song title: "Will The circle Be Unbroken"

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