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Life here on
the backside,
Where scrub brushes grow,
Among flowers and trees,
Majestic mountains show.
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The barn houses the hay,
And the cows for milking,
Horse's shelter in storms,
And spotted pigs oinking.
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Tractor parked beneath,
The loft filled with hay,
There's an old broken truck,
That was a worker in its day.
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Fences that are freshly mended,
A towering silo filled with feed,
Preparations underway for Winter,
Seeing to all the animals' needs.
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The house sits just in front of the barn,
Built solid and with great care,
Rooms large and ceilings high,
Plenty of room for family to share.
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Soon smoke will wisp from the chimney,
Spreading warmth through each room,
We gather around the fireplace,
Chasing away early Winter's gloom.
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Looking across the harvested acreage,
Taking comfort in the blessings given,
Knowing without the Lord's touch,
Each day would be trouble riven.
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With the Lord walking with us,
We enjoy life on the backside,
Daily we praise His Holy Name,
In a home where His love resides.
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The sun coming up o'er the mountains,
Glistening rays upon the tops of the trees,
Warming the valley below with the sunshine,
Caressing the grasses with a gentle breeze.
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This is sweet life on the backside,
I am drawn by the beauteous view,
I see God in each sector around me as,
I kneel, praise and thank Him anew.
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©Gayle Davis
31 August 2008
E-mail
Website
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