Poem.

Before I lay me down to sleep

Give me a chance to not just weep

For my head may not ache

Whereas when I kneel I do shake

Should I still be able to cross my heart

I hope the way it beats sets me apart

And though I may be ever so tired

Just know who is most admired

Let me call His name and all his glory

May my Heavenly Father tell me a Bedtime Story

 

Even if it’s one I’ve already heard

I promise to remember every word

For when His voice makes me drift

I pray the Lord that it is swift

And his voice takes me to the skies

While the sun beams on my closed eyes

The smell of daffodils ever so sweet

A flock of doves form at my feet

What a nice Tuesday I’ll have with Maury

Because my Father told me a Bedtime Story

 

Should I happen to fantastically dance

Dare I begin in a champion stance

And grass is covered by long, white roses

Before open doors and not one closes

The purest of sounds they do engulf me

Allowing me to be everything I want to be

I feel super not just a man

Who has no fear Who has no plan

In that field begins the glory

Because my God was my Bedtime Story

 

 

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