My Tapestry June 1, 1949

My tapestry is woven with the strangest threads,

With a mixture of colors fair;

Some are of tender thoughts that gleam,

Some are of burdens and care;

Some are of strands of loneliness,

Some are a stroll in the rain;

Some are the memories of other days

And living them over again.

Some of the threads are of sunny smiles,

Some are of dreams and tears,

Some are remembering long-lost joys,

Some are of gifts through the years.

Some of them are of winds and storms,

Some are of "passes under the rod,"

All are the threads of daily prayers

And the fingerprints of God.

                                                       V.C.