Just as, Pearls thrown befor swin are trampled .
Thus I find coinage,To weighty for carrying.
Upon The Wheats Of Time.
I Give, As I Behold.
More To Long For, Than Is Bought And Sold.
Yet It Is Written, As Was It Told.
Money Answers Every Call..
But The Love Of Money Is A Sin To All.
To Him, That Has It To Bare.
So The Wheats That Have Sifted & Fallen To The Ground.
I Pray God Is With Your Journey.
That He May Stop You, For But A Moment To Find.
Pennies From Heaven .
Could Be In The Form Of A Nickel Or Dime.
No Matter The Coinage.
I Make Time , To Give Thanks To Heaven In Song ;
For Wheat Sifted Through Times Of Such Long Ago .
Shall Give Joy To Someone Of Gods Choosing.
I Am Pleased, To Have Had It To Offer.
And So Much Lighter For Giving It Away .