Keep me singing,

as I go,

keep me singing,

in the sunshine,

or in snow or rain;

Keep me singing,

in the good times,

or in the times of pain.

Keep me singing,

while climbing life’s hills,

or when walking valleys still;

Keep me singing,

as I go,

walking on hard ground,

or wading through snow.

No matter what,

no matter where,

keep me singing as I go!

~ Winston Staples



Come hither, come hither, young person, to where, the pine trees grow. Come hither, come hither, young person, where the babbling brook, so gently flows. Come hither, come hither, young person, come and see, the wildflowers, in the lane, where the beautifully, beautifully grow. Come hither, come hither, young person, open the word, the wonderful word of God, it will guide you, as you travel this sod. ~ Winston Staples




My old body is feeling ill,
as I sit gazing,
across the lonely hills.
Below I see a quiet stream,
so far away everything seems;
even in all our ups and downs,
God creates so many blessings,
We just have to look around.
~ Winston Staples



While strolling through the woods today,
I was awed by the beauty of creation,
I was seeing along the way,
it encircled my being.
The baby blue sky,
the multitude of brightly colored leaves,
red, orange, yellow and gold,
their beauty, breath taking to behold.
The sparkling water of the beaver dam,
reflecting all the beauty around about,
caused my heart to want to shout.
Praise God! Praise God!
To God, our Creator there is no doubt.
Yes, all these things seen,
were created by the voice of God,
the creator of everything.
The only exception was man,
we were created by God’s mighty hand.

~ Winston Staples



It is a cool December night,

it is early evening,

I am enjoying the carols,

enjoying the moonlight,

loving this season of yule logs,

the egg nog and beautiful lights.

I love the cheer; I love all the smiles,

and the greeting “MERRY CHRISTMAS”,

Merry Christmas my friend,

so much joy,

I wish it would never end.

So, my brother,

So, my sister,

let us keep this joy,

this wonderful joy,

joy of this season,

by showing our smile,

and saying kind words now,

kind words everyday,

and just maybe,

the good will of our hearts,

Christian hearts will survive.

~ Winston Staples



I went to the park,

dogs, dogs,

running everywhere,

through the grass,

shedding their hair.

I went to the park,

rail fences,

woven through the trees,

the trees everywhere,

squirrels, squirrels,

running to and fro,

up and down,

the trees they go.

I went to the park,

seeking a quiet place,

a place for meditation,

a place for prayer,

a place to think,

on God's word,

about Jesus love,

about His great sacrifise,

the greatest  story ever heard.




Apples, apples,

on the trees,

how good they look,

green ones, yellow ones,

and red ones,

row after row,

and soon they,

from my hand,

to my mouth will go.

Now I reflect back,

Eight thousand,

years or so,

to a place,

called Eden,

where good trees grew.

A man and a woman,

wandered there;

to enjoy the fruit,

from all the trees,

except one God forbid.

The fruit of it,

looked so good,

and one day,

a serpent was in that tree,

it talked to Eve,

and soon by it’s words,

placed a wrong tought,

in Eve’s curious head,

and soon this wrong fruit,

Adam and Eve ate,

which was the first sin,

and in it’s bondage,

so many of mankind,

are still in.



Wonders of God

Sometimes I wonder,


anyone can say,

there is no God;

I wonder,

when they see the stars,

and all the wonderful plants,

that grow from the sod,

still say there is no God.

When I see,

creation so vast,

no end in sight,

I see a God in control

with love and might.

I think about,

from the smallest particle,

to the largest mountain,

how they proclaim,

with a shout,

there is a God,

there is no doubt!


Over The Hill!

As I,

look over the hill,

everything lies,

so quiet and still.

The trees,

so beautiful and green,

yellow dandelions,

all around can be seen.

O, wait,

I hear a sound,

the robin sings,

after it pulls,

a worm from the ground!





My old swing,
sits beneath,
a large old pine;
a good place to sit,
swing back and forth,
my back toward the South,
my face toward the North.
My old swing is,
a great spot to think,
a great place to pray,
write things down,
sometimes in the enening,
sometimes at mid-day.
My old swing is,
a great place to thank God,
as I count the blessings,
He  sends my way.
I thank You,
for my old swing,
where I can meditate,
on Your words night and day.
~ Winston Staples