The Ark
Over the last week, I have been staying at The Ark, a bed and Breakfast operated by Marianne and Bartow Wylie. It's proprietors, who are Christians, are marvelous: both gracious and kind. The B&B is quite well-kept, and the other guests also seemed quite pleased with the accommodation.
As is my habit for people who have shown me generosity as hosts, I wrote them a poem.
Comfort
Philemon 1:7 Warm lights and tender wiles reside and beckon
beside the heights. Before these rocks
we stop, reckon, fumble, wander thoughts. Warm hands arrive, restrain
and bless with gladness of the best.
For room and roof, door, stair,
words of truth; kindness, prayer
prove Christ's comfort in the Wylies' care.
Philemon 1:7 Warm lights and tender wiles reside and beckon
beside the heights. Before these rocks
we stop, reckon, fumble, wander thoughts. Warm hands arrive, restrain
and bless with gladness of the best.
For room and roof, door, stair,
words of truth; kindness, prayer
prove Christ's comfort in the Wylies' care.