#358 – Monarch

for Sunday Scribblings:

His royal love fills the throne room of my waiting heart,

His deeds of old are spoken of, they are a class apart.

But in the shadow of our cruel and busy lives,

His golden presence, is often torn away with tinsel wrapped lies.

Yet where space is swept fresh with the broom of a searching soul,

The monarch comes in ordinary clothes, to make the waiting heart whole.

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4 thoughts on “#358 – Monarch

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