O Lily ,the lily, pristine white as snow
Father must really love…love you so.
Tenderly He fashions you, His image aglow
Blooms so bright that Glory boasts…
Healing held inside thy little stems
Nectar pure with healing blends
Oozes from thy tenderest reed
Restores a voice, a voice lost in need.
Lily, O’ lily, of the Valley..Oh, yes!
This is the Lily that I do love best
Waving in Valleys of Achor so wild
Bowing each petal with grace and such style.
The Tallest of flowers with head hung down low
Like our man of sorrows betrayed by each soul
Innocent O’ innocent of charges was He
But silently took His place on a tree.
Lily thou flourishes under Thy soil!
The valley is one of pruning and spoil
Yet a land where showers of blessings pour fast
Sprouting a million little bulbs in thy path.
Ahhh, then the Lily of which resurrection is sung
Trumpets announce His coming ..Thy Son
Lilies the lilies..O’ fairest are these
Shouting with Glory and Praise to The KING!
Shelly Wilson-May 1, 2015
