Some may wish for city streets, jewels or silken gowns
Some may crave unbounded wealth, fame or beauty’s crown;
Some may long for sunny paths that lure the pleasure bent-
But simpler things by far than these would keep my soul content.
A bit of God’s green country, with the blue sky overhead;
A tiny shack, white curtained; on the sill, a posy red;
A laughing, chubby baby, playing inside on the floor,
And a little flower garden, growing near the open door.
A table set for supper, fresh fruit, and honeycomb,
Little breezes whispering, “Your man’s a comin’ home.”
Simple things, with love and faith-far from worldly strife,
God granting these, before I die, I’d ask no more of life.
Poem “Wishes” by A.C. Childs, from the book “Poems that Touch the Heart”
All images, mine, except the one that I am in which is courtesy of Joy Prouty/Wildflowers Photography