I see grass flowing in the wind Bare feet dancing among itDandelion tufts borne aloft On a comforting summer breeze I see our pretty young dancing girl In a plain dress One not so glamorous because she is poor Like the one my dad had When I was a kid Picking at a dandelionShe plucked from the field She was just dancing in As she bumps along Down the lonesome old dirt road Dreaming her dream He loves me, he loves me not Dreaming of being lovedHoping that it will take away the pain Of not being loved I see my youthful dreamsHome Sweet Home In this fallen world Dreams unending with no barriersBut my Abba has an even better plan To make all the pain mean something As a hope-filled wide-eyed child So that they could be shaped Into the image of His Son Burning Ones to terrify the dark hostJealous over that which is his own Making a Bride for himselfOut of so many hurting children Stephen Pursell, 9/21/15 | ![]() ![]() ![]() |
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