18

The Lord is my rock
and my hair has still got lichen in it
from leaning on Him.
The Lord is my fortress
and my deliverer.

My God is my rock
and I climb onto my favourite
resting place and snooze.
The Lord is my stronghold
and my salvation.

The Lord is my rock
and I tell Him I love Him out loud
because what else is there to say?

The Lord is my rock
and as no other hugs are available
the embrace of a rock will do.

The sheep know my voice by now
but they still aren’t sure.

The buzzard sits in the grass
socially distanced by a mere 6 feet.

The Lord is my rock
and the blessing of my God
kisses the land.
The Lord is my shield
and the wind is an echo of love.

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