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 Aug 2018 Isabel Levy
Jackie Mead
There was a young girl from Troy.
Who fancied she could fight like a boy.
She stepped up to the ring and started to sing.
So much joy did she bring as she danced around the ring.
It was the perfect decoy that she used on that boy, that devious young girl from Troy.
Too long for a Limerick but hope it makes you smile
For every tear I cried
Was a tear you wiped aside
Your arms would wrap around me
And in perfect bliss would I be
For every tear I wept
Was a tear that You treasured and kept
When You find me weeping
You draw me into Your arms for keeping
For I know that when I mourn I find your perfect peace
Blessed are they who mourn for when You come our tears will cease
Like a Mother with her children's fear
You call to me and draw me near
And when You touch my broken spirit
You treat my wounds with tender care
When I was shivering in the freezing cold
You collected my tears of gold
So, in your arms rest young and old
Kings and paupers, slaves and I
Within the Father's loving hold
You have called me Precious Daughter
And I have called you Loving Father
I came across an old write of mine and decided to refresh it.

— The End —