Sheltered
Just a little Angel
looking for a hand to hold,
flowers are picked with love
bundled up in the cold.
Holds a smile on her face
her cheeks, are a rosy red,
wings tucked in behind her
feathered hat upon her head.
Winds blow from the South
but, she doesn't mind at all,
braves the harshness of the weather
tries her best, not to fall.
Someone's there, to keep her warm
'tis the good Lord above,
she need not worry
she's sheltered with His love.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
Feb.26/2008
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Sheltered
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