Small Town

 River Song

The creek is music

And the wavelets dance

Tie up your skirt

Or roll up your pants

And wade in the river

With the current singing-

Among the rocks

The brook is ringing

Leap on limestone

Twirl in eddies

One with stream

As the day is ending.

Skipping Stones

Stone skipping across the water

Don't know where you'll land

How many times you'll bounce

Before you get there

The hand that threw you knows

It's skilled at its job

Knows you're going to a better part

Of the river

Them ore you bounce, the farther you'll go.

Don't fret over the landing.

I've bounced a few times myself

And where I've landed is good.

Sunday Rains

It always rains on Sunday

A blinding, driving force

Sweeps dirt out of the planters

And people through church doors.

It always rains on Sunday

Pounds down upon the car

Slows the drivers on the highway

Arriving as the service starts.

It always rains on Sunday

Makes muddy rivers flow

And if you forgot your umbrella

It soaks your Sunday clothes.

It always rains on Sunday

Erodes away the dirt

You have to hide your Bible

Underneath your shirt.

It always rains on Sunday

And let me tell you why-

These are the joyful tears

Of our LORD as he cries.

No one's happier to see us

Go to church than He,

So blast the wind, forget the rain-

Our Savior we go to see!