THE BOARDWALK PAVILION
This glorious
summer Sunday morning—
We’re drawn
eastward
from north,
south and west
by the
magnetic pull
of God’s
love-force
Drawn, to the
old wooden pavilion
to the
Atlantic, the Jersey shore
to the boards
at God’s Square Mile—
Ocean Grove.
Drawn
wearing khaki
and denim
tees and tanks
sundresses,
flip-flops
carrying
water bottles
carrying
Bibles
fanning
ourselves
with song
sheets
We fill the
benches
then spill
over
into the
periphery
onto folding
chairs, lawn chairs
beach blankets.
Some stand
Some look for
shade
It’s 80-plus
and breezy
The sky,
clear
The sea
glistens
Waves slap
the shore
merrily.
We’re merry
Vacationers
stroll past
Some peer;
some stop
some smile;
some don’t
Bikers pedal
by
joggers jog
Hymnsong;
guitar-strum
Son-smiles; praise
dance
heart-moves; Kidz
church
Gospel-preach
Agape flows
outward
aboutward
Sea mist
rises like incense
upward,
Heavenward
toward the
One
enthroned
We bask in
the warmth
of His smile
of His warm,
sunshiny love
Maude Carolan
Pych
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