We had a beautiful Sunday – sun, light light breeze, blue sky with puffy white clouds. And it lasted the whole day. Of course, we paid for it today: very very windy Monday. But sitting in the garden on Sunday morning, reading and dreaming I was reminded of a poem.
Some keep the Sabbath going to church;
I keep it staying at home,
With a bobolink for a chorister,
And an orchard for a dome.
Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;
I just wear my wings,
And instead of tolling the bell for church,
Our little sexton sings.
God preaches, — a noted clergyman, —
And the sermon is never long;
So instead of getting to heaven at last,
I’m going all along!