R
Robert Harrison
Guest
Of all the walks I have taken in yonder wood
Of all the flowers where my feet have stood
Of all of the hiding animals when I came near
Of all of the birds in flight which I hold so dear.
I wish I could see them again.
Of all of the rivers that have sparkled in the sun
Of all the grasses swaying and bowing in fun
Of all of the bees buzzing from flower to flower.
Of all the butterfly's living for so short an hour.
I wish I could see them again.
Of all the pallets of a mornings blush
Of all the sighing breezes gentle hush
Of all the berries on the hawthorn hedge
Of all the sparrow on my window ledge
I wish I could see them again.
Of all the sights and sounds and smells
Of all the chapels Sabbaths ringing bells
Of all the fells and hills and echoing vales
Of all the joys as we scampered over dales
I wish I could hear them again.
Though I am blind to all but remembered sights
Though I am deaf to the thunderous silent nights
I can still smell the woods, the seasons of flowers
I shall take them all with me after my final hours
Then as I rise from this body of earthly clay
I will smile to myself on this wonderful day
For I shall see His hand which He offers to me
Thus He will say, "Come my son, let me show
You all I have for thee".
© Robert Harrison 2006
Of all the flowers where my feet have stood
Of all of the hiding animals when I came near
Of all of the birds in flight which I hold so dear.
I wish I could see them again.
Of all of the rivers that have sparkled in the sun
Of all the grasses swaying and bowing in fun
Of all of the bees buzzing from flower to flower.
Of all the butterfly's living for so short an hour.
I wish I could see them again.
Of all the pallets of a mornings blush
Of all the sighing breezes gentle hush
Of all the berries on the hawthorn hedge
Of all the sparrow on my window ledge
I wish I could see them again.
Of all the sights and sounds and smells
Of all the chapels Sabbaths ringing bells
Of all the fells and hills and echoing vales
Of all the joys as we scampered over dales
I wish I could hear them again.
Though I am blind to all but remembered sights
Though I am deaf to the thunderous silent nights
I can still smell the woods, the seasons of flowers
I shall take them all with me after my final hours
Then as I rise from this body of earthly clay
I will smile to myself on this wonderful day
For I shall see His hand which He offers to me
Thus He will say, "Come my son, let me show
You all I have for thee".
© Robert Harrison 2006