© Copyright 2012
Not made in China, deeper than deep
Degenerating not, through all generations
Formed by no formula, told by no words
Is the joy! Bestowed upon you.
Why dim? With hope that no grave would rot
Why tremble? With feet on the Rock of ages
Let your gentleness sing loud, meekness in bold print.
Demand not your rights, for
Nothing is anything, anything is nothing.
Rap your requests in thanks and mail them on high
And again I say Rejoice!
Philippians 4: 4-6
By Henry Samuel Mello
Email Henry Mello