Mission Wheels Clogged:
She bled like roses…
Blushed like cherries,
Dreamed like autumn
Died with December.
Mission wheels clogged,
Arteries hardened,
Wind hailed decades,
Daughters rebelled.
Sons brandished.
Promises ended,
Fetters all broken,
Mule-trains ran tardy,
Time left me sublime.
Travel Far.
Pastor Steve Bonenberger