A Talk with God

I drift a while in outer space
And gather in each little trace
For the Angels in their loving dance
Put all Gods things within a trance
So nothing knows where it has been
And all believe its just a dream
That once they spoke with God

For out in space there’s naught but stars
And whose to say just which is ours
Except perhaps the Angels fair
Who build a world with all their care
While we just talk to God.
PTT