Anointing Oil
The flame is low Upon the wick, So pale its glow. Dark shadows flick And slowly lick Up light, the foe. Sharp tongues of men Expose the quick, Lay bare each sin. No oil to slick, And faults are thick When love is thin. Poetry
The flame is low Upon the wick, So pale its glow. Dark shadows flick And slowly lick Up light, the foe. Sharp tongues of men Expose the quick, Lay bare each sin. No oil to slick, And faults are thick When love is thin. Poetry
Rebekah (Smit) Buiter
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Beacon Lights