Ivy Schex Biography

The prairie blows the grasses
And whips the horse’s mane.
They travel, horse and rider,
Through the sea of amber grain
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Dear Grandma, I remember
When you were there for me
Dear Grandma, I remember
Your smile was a joy to see
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There is a dream
Of rushing wind
And riding o’er
The growing green
...

To everything there is a season
A time for every purpose under Heaven

A time to be born
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I was riding my horse one day
When he suddenly stopped in the Way
Along came a car
My horse went far
...