Run, Coyote, Run

Run, Coyote, Run
By Rev. Lonnie C. Crowe

Run, coyote, run
over the wind-swept prairies
Through grasses browned by time.

Run in the freedom of you,
Snapping, snarling, laughing.

Propelled by the gust,
The color of dust--
Run, coyote, run.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving
By Rev. Lonnie C. Crowe

I Will Enter His Gates
I will enter into His courts
With praise:

For snow-capped mountain
Lit with morning’s beam
A child’s candy-coated smile;
A friendly touch;
The color of the leaf
And autumnal sod;
The old man’s sonorous song;
The young man's vision;
The joy of laughter;
The camaraderie of tears;

Abba Father,
This is the day You have made,
And I will rejoice and be glad in it!