by: Shirley Satterfield
Getting Ripe ????
I sit here on the edge of eternity.
Letβs toast to the present moment.
The Lord shall cut me off
And set my spirit free.
As a doveβs feather blowing in the the wind,
I shall go to Him.
I love my present God given life,
But my soul is getting ripe
For heaven and the grave.
No longer will I be sinβs most humble slave.