Another World To Sing In

In an old Country kitchen, my mother, would quite often sing.
As she carried from stove to table, the food, she had to bring.

She'd sing as she sat a-sewing, the clothes we had to wear.
She's sing songs of blessings, oh Savior, sure-n keep our care.

She'd hum, down the cotton row, 'til she reached the very end,
Then turn and a-coming back, she's start singing, again.

She sang the songs of glory, unto our Lord above...
Reaching far down into her heart ~ giving, to Him her love.

Mama would hug and kiss us, telling of another world to be,
Of a Savior called Jesus, whom she Prayed, we'd one day see.

Oh Glory, she sang in tenor, my Lord will soon come for me,
But there's another world to sing in ~ with Angels, you'll see.

She'd ride in a wagon, to Church on a Sunday, in a choir to sing,.
And, she'd Pray oh Savior, sweet blessing, please bring.

I'd hear her at the old rub board, a-singing once again...
I'd ask her why and she said, glorify Jesus and avoid all sin.

She was my little Mother and a hard life she did see,
But she told us to keep the hope of yonder, way beyond the sea.

Said there's more than one world, to sing in, sure-n 'tis true.
And I'll be a-waitin' with Jesus, to gladly welcome, all of you.

She's there now, a singing, in her tenor voice, so sweet and clear.
We all miss her so much, sometimes we think we hear...

Her voice as she sits a-sewing, sweet melodies of her soft love,
So, there really must be, another world to sing in, up there above.

©Pearlie Duncan Walker