Poem 3

By Vanessa Harris

Gently falling, refreshing without jarring,
Faithfully blankets every morning;
Nourishing parched and empty places,
Conveying the smile on my Father’s face,
Such, is the dew of God’s grace!


The king’s wrath is like the roaring of a lion, but his favor is like dew on the grass.  Proverbs 19:12

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