When you do the dishes,

And the suds cover your hands,

His thoughts toward you are endless,

Like the sea and the sands.

When you do the dishes,

And your neck gets kind of stiff,

Know that you belong to Him,

And He won't just let you drift.

When you do the dishes, and long standing you might be,

Know that there is nothing in your heart,

He does not understand or see.

When you do the dishes, and your thoughts drift to the past,

Don't linger too long on those feelings,

Or things that really don't last.

When you do the dishes, if the warm water turns to cold,

Know that He'll stand beside you,

When you are very old.

When you do the dishes,

Ask Him if He will dry,

Not the forks, or knives, or spoons,

But the tears that are in your eye...

Author: Randy Stahla, copyright 2006.

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Blue Ballerina was written for those who have lost someone because of a crime.