Various times


More often than not,
Have I ever once thought,
I would be in a place such as this.

And at various times,
With the wind through the chimes,
I could love you so much more than this.

Though you knew me the same,
Knew my faults and my gains,
Even the split hairs on my head.

I sure love you my Lord,
As the strings on a chord,
play your sweet tune in my head.


Copyright 2003 by pauly hart