There's a trail winds down from my house
to a lovely little spring
Where goldenrod grows all around
and pheasants take to wing;
Where bees buzz 'round wild flowers
of yellow, blue and white,
And hummingbirds and insects feed
as they move from site to site.
In Wintertime, when all is still
as a picture in a book,
My spring keeps on a-bubbling
to begin its little brook.
And then I know - no matter how
my world may rock and spin,
God is in His heaven, and
it will all come right again.
~ Frankie Davis Oviatt
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