Gratitude

When blessings come,
To dance before my eyes.
Do I with fulness speak,
To calm these inner-cries?

Do I proclaim aloud,
What seems to be a part?
Of pent-up feelings,
That stir with-in my heart?

Do words stay fixed,
All hidden in among?
Or do they rally forth,
So all the world can hear?

Do they lift -oft from the tongue,
In a voice fully raised?
And in the noblest form,
When God is praised?

Accounting for my portion,
Of tone...and interlude.
As lips are parted in a sound,
Of sweetest...GRATITUDE.


E.P. 1908 - 1989