The little church nestled among the pine trees.
Stood patiently waiting for someone with keys,
To open the big doors so people will come in.
After all to let the little church be vacant is a sin.
This was not a town church but one for mountain folk.
Built with love from God’s firm and sturdy old oak.
This church knew it had a solemn and sacred duty.
To provide a sanctuary regardless of any booty.
Sunday was treated like a brand new day.
One where old and young came to obey
The divine words of God as they were read.
From the Holy Scripture, their souls were fed.
The choir sang and the music began to swell.
Deacon pulled the rope and rang the bell.
The little church though no one could see.
Was just as proud as he could be.
This spot in the forest was a very special place.
Touched by the angels distributing God’s grace.
Visitors came to the church from all around.
And with them they brought a glorious sound.
© Carol G Oliver
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