©2016 dr wills
there'll be no fields to plow,
no wheat to thresh,
no sweaty brow ~
today,
tomorrow shall not be;
not here, at least ~
at least, for me.
for, when, in sudden silent time,
that thief will come
and take what i
have wholly given him to own,
and reap the fields
that i have sown:
i'll hear
a sound i've longed to hear
which can't be heard
by mortal ear ~
a sound of joy! of sweet release!
which bids me to
the Wedding feast.
so quick
this tent i'll lay aside,
and come away to be
his bride ~
and, there,
with him unburdened be
forever
in eternity ~
today?
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