mawilliams
kickbox
She told me of a little ridge
That passed beneath a street.
She met with friends beneath the bridge,
A secret place to meet.
A stream of water flowed between
Two shady hills of earth,
A place where they would not be seen
Expressing youthful mirth.
The sweet, dear innocence of youth
Finds solace anywhere.
I pray that grace in her take root
Each time I visit there.
Maurice A. Williams
Copyright 2003
That passed beneath a street.
She met with friends beneath the bridge,
A secret place to meet.
A stream of water flowed between
Two shady hills of earth,
A place where they would not be seen
Expressing youthful mirth.
The sweet, dear innocence of youth
Finds solace anywhere.
I pray that grace in her take root
Each time I visit there.
Maurice A. Williams
Copyright 2003