My Blessed Home

I don't have to go to the rolling hills

To sense the joys of nature's thrills.

From my front porch I see fine trees

And hear the songs of winds and leaves.

I listen to the hum of flies

And watch the ever-changing skies.

I sense the quiet of the day

And hear the children near at play.

I lay relaxed upon this chair

And dream and think in silent prayer.

There is no urge to want to roam

For blessed is my home sweet home.

~ Tee Lowrey

Every good gift

and every perfect

gift is from above...

James 1:17