by Tyrone Godfrey
Thursday, November 29, 2001
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I hear the Wind Parade and see the joys that pass.
I hear the sound of children playing in the grass.
I hear the hungry voices, crying in the night. I pray
that they be filled before the morning light. I see
the people, whose hearts have cried for love, I see
the "Holy Spirit" descending like a dove. I see those people's hearts full of comfort now. I hear a
voice that's saying, "come where peace is found."
I hear the Wind Parade, and I behold all the hate.
I hear the sound of children who dare to play with
fate. I see the lonely man who merely wants a meal. I see the sick, and pray they may be healed. I hear the Wind Parade, and see the joys that pass. I hear the sound of children playing in the
For the children, we must live.
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|Reviewed by Afrika Abney
|Marvelous write and love the images you depict in this poem.
|Reviewed by Janet Caldwell
|It seems that you have grown my friend. Good for you. Janet xoxoxoxo|
|Reviewed by Lynn Barry
|Wind parade...I love it! Outstanding!|
|Reviewed by Regina Pounds
|You are right, Tyrone. (Last line) This is excellent, indeed. Thanks for posting it, and thanks for visiting my den, too.
|Reviewed by Victoria Murray
|Beautiful Ty! Who are the children in the photo?
|Reviewed by Trixie Love
Again you did it my friend...This moved my
heart and soul...
Beautiful as alway's...