Poem September 16, 1972 Issue

REBUKE

Arthur F. Stockel

Words we do not care to hear
Sometimes come
From someone dear.

They correct our unseen fault—
Oft uncover selfish thought.

Cold but sweet,
Like drops of rain,
Sprinkling us again, again—

They water now the desert place,
And shower us with secret grace.

If such words with healing fall
Love has loosed them.
Use them all!

Arthur F. Stockel

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Love Enough
September 16, 1972
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