The earth so hard and cold
As they lower her in the ground
As we watch the tiny coffin
No one makes a sound
Is it guilt that we feel
As we slowly bow our head
That we didn't help this child
We turned our backs instead
Lord, accept this little one
As she comes into your fold
If she seems afraid, dear Lord
Give her Your hand to hold
May the angels gather 'round her
Gentle voices softly cry
As their harmony from Heaven
Sings and angels lullabye...
We passed her house many times
The shadows echoed her pain
Not willing to get involved
What would we have to gain
Beaten by her father
As the world went on its way
We went to our meetings
While her life's blood seeped away
Lord, accept this little one
As she comes into your fold
If she seems afraid, dear Lord
Give her Your hand to hold
May the angels gather 'round her
Gentle voices softly cry
As their harmony from Heaven
Sings and angels lullabye...
(C) Linda Hill
rhythm and flow is so enchanting..............thts in all ur poems.............another gr8 wrk..............
Sensitively written unhurried lullaby for helpless souls. Indifference making a difference quietly proclaimed. Well put Linda.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A saddness that grips your soul. you are the voice of the angels. love it Deb