There's a Little White Church

There’s a little white church on a quiet county road,

It holds many secrets and stories to be told.

There are many wooden pews, worn and used,

Filled by people with the same old views.

There’s a little white church filled with voices,

And a congregation that makes the same choices.

The wooden floors, show the treads,

Where people walk and children are wedged.

There’s a little white church where many are married,

And then later on, children are carried.

The metal rails on the sides of the step,

Have kids hanging right and left.

There’s a little white church, where many gather,

To hear the a sermon and lots of chatter,

Dresses and skirts, ties and shirts,

Marking the Sabbath and a day for church.

There’s a little white church that filled with singing,

Songs and hymns with the organ ringing.

Words that calm me, make me feel safe,

Words of joy, of love, of wrath.

There’s a little white church that fills my past,

Memories and ways that are bound to last.

Ideas with which I don’t agree,

But things that are special cause they make me, me.