Thursday, December 23, 2010

1996 Christmas Poem

The fist which lay
Within his mother’s fingers
Had not long before
Let go His Father’s hand
His name once shouted
Over heaven
Was now only whispered
Among the keepers of little lambs
Though glory was the
Very atmosphere above
He now shared the air
His enemies breathed
Once waited on
By unnumbered hosts
He would serve
Not the great but the least
Unattended at His coming
Deserted at His death
Only He could have more to give
When all was taken from Him

- 27 August 1996

No comments:

Post a Comment