From A Stream The Color Glowed Poem by James McLain

When your church upon the hill,
High up on the hill where he would preach.
Being poor would never reach,
And in death,
He could not even save their soul's.

And thus of all not seen,
In light or dark
Being young where they would go.

And from a stream the color glowed,
In hues of black or gold.
Lightning in the sky at night,
The moon in reach so full.

Consensus as it daily grew,
Some a few that many knew.
A secret there's a secret kept,
Of all the boy's and girl's.


Copyright © James McLain | Year Posted 2017