By Frances McCrory-Meservy


She was wrapped in religion

And rooted in contention.

The fruit were barely visible

Yet completely indispensable.


She believed         what she was taught

And could not be bought.

She needed Godís pure word

And it was no where to be heard.


She was oppressed by things not in the Book.

We took a             careful look.

"Cleanliness is next to Godliness" was not sound.

Was no where to be found.


Freed from the yoke of guilt,

She cleaned and made a quilt.

Now Godís             fruit shine

And she is thine.