DESERT PLACES.
When you in desert places
marched,
They seemed too much
So dry and parched.
In darkest night out there so
cold,
You saw no loving
Hand to hold.
You could not see if there was
land,
It seemed twas just
A sea of sand.
You longed to find a place to
drink,
Or someones hand
With which to link.
You hoped some Soul would
share their bread,
Or give a place
To lay your head.
You felt as if you faced
defeat,
No loving hand
Could see to greet.
Your eyes at last did finally
open,
No more in blindness
To be groping.
There with arms so open wide,
The Saviour always
By your side.
Ivan