The Bench

by Lynn Laurell

It sits in a meadow not far from my house,

And as I look a few tears roll onto my blouse.

Memories flood o'er my mind like a vise

Of the Bench's creator, so living and nice.

Daily he surveyed God's beauty around

And taught me that is will always abound.

Yes, he saw God's love then passed it on.

He was my Grandpa and his legacy has dawned.

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