Words and Music by Denis Stanley Sorenson
Last, but not least, this serves as your introduction to our next CD release, which will feature Sherisse.
When I was just a little boy, my stories had no endings,
And writing verse seemed more like work or discipline unbending,
Until I learned to live and love and to write and prune and burnish,
And to build a place, a house, a home, that even God could furnish.
My Father taught me how to sing, but to write a song seemed impossible
Until my Mother's old guitar whispered soft, you'll find it's plausible,
Then as I practiced in my room, all alone, just playing, pining
New melodies just filled my soul, and set new stars to shining.
Those little rhythmic shifts of mind and rhymes to match emotions
Awoke new spirits deep inside, for brewing life's love potions.
So now that I am getting on and the years pass by like week days,
My stories and my music's grown as a formula to seek ways,
To fill the hearts of young and old with a little better living
And softly, with my little songs, add to the world of giving.
For each every growing soul in this or any nation,
Sharing love and talents all around; it's this we call creation.