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"PEACE"
Peace is such a fleeting bird_
She can be swept away with a mere spoken word.
A state of being, a state of mind,
A soft caress, a climbing vine.
No one can really know why,
Peace, is something that just happens by_
If perchance, she comes your way_
Grasp her firmly and hope she'll stay.
She spreads her wings far and wide_
Preening her coat with subtle pride.
Man hath fought and died to capture her spell_
For without her, Life is Hell.
by Mary S. Hymel
Copyright 1973-2000
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