Here's a fairly recent one, written just a year ago. I definitely seem to favor the Fall season as a poetry theme when you look through my whole portfolio.
The Painter of The Leaves
He’s the God of all Creation
He’s the maker of the rain
His voice resounds like thunder
His touch relieves our pain.
His strength renews us daily
He clothes us with His love
The seasons are HIs wardrobe
From heaven’s closets above
His music created by songbirds
The pattern of life He weaves
But most of all He's an artist
The Painter of the leaves.
He chooses HIs colors carefully
And from HIs palette retrieves
The reds and golds of autumn
He’s the Painter of the leaves
When October turns into November
And the doubter wants to believe
It always helps to remember
That He’s the Painter of the leaves.
And should we ever wander
And our spirit starts to grieve
When life has lost its color
He’s still the Painter of the leaves.
Written by Joan Rowden Hart October 31, 2014
The Painter of The Leaves
He’s the God of all Creation
He’s the maker of the rain
His voice resounds like thunder
His touch relieves our pain.
His strength renews us daily
He clothes us with His love
The seasons are HIs wardrobe
From heaven’s closets above
His music created by songbirds
The pattern of life He weaves
But most of all He's an artist
The Painter of the leaves.
He chooses HIs colors carefully
And from HIs palette retrieves
The reds and golds of autumn
He’s the Painter of the leaves
When October turns into November
And the doubter wants to believe
It always helps to remember
That He’s the Painter of the leaves.
And should we ever wander
And our spirit starts to grieve
When life has lost its color
He’s still the Painter of the leaves.
Written by Joan Rowden Hart October 31, 2014
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