Beach House

I miss the Oregon beach house

I miss the Oregon sea

I miss the Oregon in the sand

I miss the air crisp and free

I miss the room 'neath the stairwell

I miss the over-tall stools

I long for the room-making window

that watches the surf keep God's rules

I miss the blue 'neath the sea-foam

I miss the gold 'neath the grass

And 'neath the stirring gaze of my Maker

I miss the love that did pass

But most of all I miss childhood

I miss my sisters as friends

I think that Heaven is Oregon

An Easter which never quite ends