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He Knows His OwnLook to the horizon just beyond the moor Dark clouds announce that they will soon pour. Pouring buckets of rain among people below Adding to their troubles and dreaded tales of woe. Lives that were damaged by pain and great fear... Dramatic fear that the end is always near. Poverty and illnesses left them tired and poor Tired in the bones and hearts burdened and sore. There is One that came to offer them bread. Bread that leaves everyone full and well fed. Fed so well that they're no longer poor For they found real treasure and can now explore… The depths of the wells, which never run dry Tears of joy are now the tears of each eye. Lord Jesus on the cross can never be ignored Blood shed for our sins, from His love is how it poured. He knows His own and they all know Him Days are full of delight and are no longer grim. All eyes sparkle bright for they truly understand, That the poor in spirit will be guided by His hand. A precious hand pierced and the faithful will then see Pure love has joined us for all of Eternity. 2Timothy 2:19 Nevertheless, God's solid foundation stands firm, having this inscription: The Lord knows those who are His, and Everyone who names the name of the Lord must turn away from unrighteousness. Julie Pisacane © 2005 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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