TOUCH STONE POEM.  

Pebble in a Pocket,
Clasp and hold,
Pain, Tis etched all over you,
Left over of Sin,
Written on the Fore head,
Counted on hairs,
Seen in he Eye,
And broken of Body,
Smelling of Myrrh,
By way of the Christ Child,
Painting your Faces with words!!   

By Andrew Fry.
Just Passing 2004.