With gentle hands On ivory keys She plays her songs So beautifully Only God's voice Could be a more Comforting sound To her four children Who gathered round Happy and sad And songs in between The music she shared Heartened us when Times were lean We awoke each morning And fell asleep each night Hearing the lovely Music being played With such delight The ivories were wet When her parents died By the tears that Fell as she cried The hymns she played To ease her grief Seemed at times her only relief For god took them both Only six months apart Then used the piano To heal her broken heart Her music and love Are bound together Almost as though they Will be around forever Subtle and quiet and so Often taken for granted Yet still nurturing The four seeds That she's planted A true blessing From up above God granted us the Experience of a Mother's greatest love Played so bravely Yet sang so tenderly It is the sweet music of Our mother's melody.
Bem-vindo ao Ojogos
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