It was nearly dusk,
When I chanced upon the rose,
Gleaming white it shone.
My cookbook, no trace
Of the recipe for bread
Then what shall I bake?
Link by link, the chain
binds me to this thankless job,
my spirit broken.
A trace of God’s light
leads to the forgiven path,
Essentials for Life.
linking to The Sunday Whirl
photos and text by Scrappy Grams
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