“The Dad” I have heard your stories,a thousand times.Of big business deals,and some childhood crimes.Still I love to listen,and drink them up,Like cold margaritas,salt and fresh limes.We have been on trips,and seen so much.like distant beaches,national parks and such.Thieves could steal,my every souvenir.But the memories made,they cannot touch.Our amazing God created life, without blueprintsor aContinue reading “The Dad”
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Poetry by Carolyn Cantrell Snowden 