Across the barren plain To rolling hills terrain Far from any bustling city Nestles a town little bitty. Like living in yesteryear Is this small town here, Where folks live for God Once sat shanties of sod. Towns change somewhat But generations have not, Lovers of The Lord dwell In earshot of a church bell. In this olden town quaint With gleaming white paint Sits a church proudly bold, A historic marvel to behold. It's been a salvation to all When bothers come to call, In this olden church of white Acts the spirit of God's might. Beneath it's high holy steeple Meet a township of people, On Sunday or any given day They come to praise and pray. When the church bell tolls Christians begin their stroll, Before it's stopped ringing You can hear joyous singing. The church is never hushed Their lives are never rushed, For a tiny town on a little hill God protects and always will. Far and away from anyplace Sits a town in God's grace, Where rolling hills meet sky There is an old church nearby. ©Written by: Kenneth J. Ellison 06-18-07 Songs: "Gospel Songs Medley" Return   Poetry By Ken   Guestbook   Email Ken To send this page to someone