wint'swords: The Stream

wint'swords: The Stream: "There is a crooked stream, running quiet and still, just half a mile, over that hill. One day last fall, there was a big rain, that ol..."

The Stream

There is a crooked stream,
running quiet and still,
just half a mile,
over that hill.
One day last fall,
there was a big rain,
that old stream was raging,
a rage no man could tame.
It roared and rushed,
took houses and land,
where ever it went,
 it obeyed no command.
Sometimes our life,
is like that stream,
all peaceful and calm,
then comes trials,
that explode like a bomb.
We have a place,
where we can go,
to our Heavenly Father,
who by His loving hand,
soothes and calms,
that raging stream,
with one command,
it obeys His will,
as He speaks,
Peace be still.
--Winston Staples--

The Old Woods Road

When I was a lad,
only half grown,
my dad would take me fishing,
out that old woods road.
How I loved our fellowship,
and my dad's smile,
as we stopped to rest,
after we walked,
what seemed two miles.
We sat and rested,
listened to the birds sing;
with the sun beaming down,
and a gentle breeze,
blowing through the pines,
O what a beautiful sound.
Now these old bones,
are seventy years old,
and the bushes have over grown,
and it is hard to find,
that old woods road;
But that old woods road is there,
 as long as I can think,
 and rem-anise of a stream,
where I fished,
 and had a cool drink.