Oh Lord, amend my earthen wants
and mute the clock till nonchalant.
We have not time nor fathom our own;
mine ripe yet seedling that You have sown.
Mound of my Portion glows glory near-
never falls darkness in veil of a tear.
Mortal remains that root out in these hours
would not fill one cup that serve God and His powers.
Clay earthen waters reach to ocean’s appease.
Oh My Father; Son Jesu, of the Galilee sea,
this Life in me: Love- such Glory precedes…
The cup filled with Him, my Treasure indeed.
©2015 Linda Willows