Post by MIRIAM JACOB on Jan 26, 2007 13:28:29 GMT -5
THE MASTER PAINTER
There is a Master Painter
Who lives up above.
With each stroke of His brush,
He paints us some love.
He painted the purple violets
And the yellow daffodils,
With the deepest orange sunset
Between the valleys and hills.
He paints us a rainbow;
After the rain.
Then, He brushed on some moon-glow,
Above the rugged terrain.
He painted our skies;
The mountains, and streams
The bluest of blues
And the greenest of greens.
He paints us the perfect portrait,
With His tender works of art.
He shows us. in every pastel rose,
The love within His heart.
This beauty and perfection.
That He paints for us to share,
Is a Masterpiece right here, on earth;
In which no artist can compare.
© 2002 by Vickie Lambdin
There is a Master Painter
Who lives up above.
With each stroke of His brush,
He paints us some love.
He painted the purple violets
And the yellow daffodils,
With the deepest orange sunset
Between the valleys and hills.
He paints us a rainbow;
After the rain.
Then, He brushed on some moon-glow,
Above the rugged terrain.
He painted our skies;
The mountains, and streams
The bluest of blues
And the greenest of greens.
He paints us the perfect portrait,
With His tender works of art.
He shows us. in every pastel rose,
The love within His heart.
This beauty and perfection.
That He paints for us to share,
Is a Masterpiece right here, on earth;
In which no artist can compare.
© 2002 by Vickie Lambdin