Gold

I was raised in summertime,

But I got to know the winter too.

Flowing from this heart of mine,

All the things I knew I must pursue;

‘Cause the rain don’t stop until you do.

No, the rain don’t stop until you do.

Ride the sunshine;

Bring the moonlight;

Light a fire and call it home.

Meet the stranger,

On the hillside,

Wearing clothes that you have handsewn.

Coins of silver

Lead to treasure;

That’s the story we’re all told.

Listen closely

To the thunder,

Speaks of love that cannot be sold.

Pure Gold.

I was raised in summertime,

But I got to know the winter too.

Flowing from this heart of mine,

All the things I knew I must pursue;

‘Cause the rain don’t stop until you do.

No, the rain don’t stop until you do.

© Jane Thomas