By Mike Polka
Way out in the country,
not far from ox & yoke,
stands the old country church
built of sturdy oak.
Now the people go to the city church
and the country church is no more.
Shuttered are the windows
rusty hinges on the door.
Oh, how I long to walk again once more
down that road, of hickory & birch
to worship God in the peacefulness
of the old country church.
