by Josette Davison
Lord, let me not be bitter
For bitterness crawls into itself
And awaits a shrunken death
But let this raw heart
Stand back from its wound
Accepting and knowing
That love is its healing
Lord, let me not be bitter
For bitterness crawls into itself
And awaits a shrunken death
But let this raw heart
Stand back from its wound
Accepting and knowing
That love is its healing
So prays my brave, loving friend, wounded by her mate’s death.