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God washed the sins from my weary soul
And hung it up to dry;
But, while it hung in the warm sunshine
A little breeze came by.

My poor soul went out upon that breeze.
It could not see the gale.
But God went right out and looked for it
'Oer every hill and dale.

My soul was much battered by the storm,
Then tossed into the dirt.
The darkness of night came rushing in
And my poor soul cried and hurt.

God heard my soul's cries throughout the storm
And sent the night away.
Then He called a cloud of bitter tears to wash
Dirty sin from my soul that day.

When my poor soul was clean again
God hung it up to dry.
Please dear soul remember quite well
To let gales breeze pass by!

When my soul's hung through the warmth of day
And the bitter cold of night,
When there's been enough of laughter of day
And enough of tears of night,

And when I've held my soul quite fast
To that slim and tender line,
And with God's love and strengthening power
Accepted whatever be mine,

When I've seen enough of the storms of life
To see only the silver lining,
God will take down my soul and fold it away
Where the sun is ever shining.

by Donna Carol

~ Donna Carol ~
Šused with permission
Read more of her poetry here.