Oh how I miss each Sunday morn
Sounds echoing since I was born
Those happy tunes or plaintive hymns
From early on till evening dims.
Their voices raised with one accord
The hopeful sing and praise the Lord,
My mother’s voice so sweet and strong
Would sound aloud the whole week long.
She loved to sing each olden tune
About romance, lost love or moon,
I wish I knew if heaven rings
With hymns and songs an angel sings !
Claire V. Bogdanos 