by Clay Harrison
Twice a day they come my way
because they somehow know
That I will give them food and drink
and they are free to go.
Some linger in my garden
because they have no home
And they rest among the flowers
where there's no need to roam
They are the walking wounded,
these homeless cats I feed,
and somehow they seem to trust me
to meet their daily need.
And how much like these strays we come
to seek our daily bread
In a world filled with strangers
who care not if we're fed.
For the master gives us food and drink
because He loves us so,
And we linger in His garden
with nowhere else to go.
Return to Poetry
** Fair Use Notice**
This document may contain copyrighted material, use of which has not been
specifically authorized by the copyright owners. I believe that this
not-for-profit, educational use on the Web constitutes a fair use of the
copyrighted material (as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright
Law). If you wish to use this copyrighted material for purposes of your
own that go beyond fair use, you must obtain permission from the copyright
owner.
