Poems of Lighthouse Bob

In Hibernated State #104



I hear no voice that whispers out my words
And through my solace not a psalm is heard
No praise to GOD, no nursery rhyme
Just dust collects while passing time
Upon this shelf. How foolishly absurd
I sit and wait while no one comes my way
And watch the minutes once more turn to days
I shed a tear which no one hears
And if they did it would appear
That no one here would take the time to pray
After all, I'm just an heirloom anyway
A hand-me-down from long ago
From where I came, none could know
But, I. Yes, I recall the very day
Before the death or wedding vow
That passed me on to here, somehow
I lived within the heart of One so great
Who wished to pass to you His vast estate
He loved you so, but you'll not know
The words He wrote that you might go
To be with Him, so on this shelf I wait
A Bible kept in hibernated state.

-Lighthouse Bob




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In Hibernated State #104

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