Enoch walked, we're told, with God
for 300 years
I can't walk with God
for 300 seconds
Enoch walked, we're told, with God
for 300 years
I'm always straying away
into the weeds
Take me to that place
where seek is find
Take me to that place
where knock is open wide
Take me to that place
where seek is find
where weak is strong
where you're really mine
Blues in F
Good to know there's someone else near lost in the couchgrass, B.R.
ReplyDeleteHey W.B.,
ReplyDeleteGood to hear from you. My blog has been on the back burner this summer, obviously. Been working on a group of sonnets about Joan of Arc, believe it or not! And making some homemade guitars.
And rambling around in the rough, for sure.
Peace,
B.R.