Shadows fall, flickering figures on the wall,
Silhouettes, I recall; 'tis not white or black,
But shades of gray We meet along life's way;
Except, for Mama's angel-face all white
And shining with God's grace!
As for me, I pray, as night be followed by day,
'Tis my hope that those I love, would Leave the black,
And choose the White, out of the gray,
When thought doth not flee, but wonder onto thought of me!

by BJ Crawford Holcomb

Other poems of BJ CRAWFORD HOLCOMB (4)

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