With her palette of colours of every hue,
Her scent bottles and her Ipod too.
She's placing bluebells under shady trees.
The grass she paints in the softest green.
Down in the meadow, our God is smiling today.
She's tinting the flowers pastel and bright.
Scenting some to delight in the night.
Everything has a little mirror hidden within.
Her perfect beauty is reflected for all to see.
Down in the meadow, our God is playing today,
Gathering armfuls of colourful, scented flowers.
She's here to while away some lazy, languid hours.
She lies back relaxed in the long dry grass,
Watching tiny clouds scudding by in the vast azure sky.
Down in the meadow, our God is fishing today.
She has her glass jam jar and her little nylon net.
She's wearing rubber boots so her feet won't get wet.
She's searching the stream for the tiniest tadpoles.
Small as they are, they too reflect her beauty.
Down in the meadow, our God is in love today.
She looks at all she has created, the big and the small,
The plants, the animals and people; the most amazing of all.
She looks at them all with such wonder and awe,
Loves them so dearly and knows they are good.
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