Poetry By Ken in Rainbow Colors

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"

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