I will be posting my poems here on a regular basis. I hope you like them!
Love
A boy asked a question,
While he was at play,
Inquisitive he was,
By nature you see.
His father was speaking,
To mother was he,
When kindly he told her,
I love you, my dear.
The little boy pondered,
He didnt quite grasp,
So with interest he asked,
What eer did you mean?
The father did turn,
He crouched to the floor,
And lifted the boy up,
Upon A worn knee.
In kindness he told him,
In simplicity true,
The story of love,
So as hed believe:
There was a grand king,
His domain was immense;
No thing did he lack,
So wealthy was he.
But joy he did loose,
When sadly he saw,
How many were ill,
Throughout that great land.
So from his grand splendors,
And from his great courts,
He left his own home,
And abode in dark streets.
The riches he'd owned,
He gave to the poor,
While with his pure garments,
He bandaged sore wounds.
But many did hate him,
They struck him with thorns;
Yet though he was bleeding,
Not one he denied.
And then he did die,
Alone and in pain,
While the last of his raiment,
Was given away.
Yet never he fled,
Through all that great time,
Though he could have gone easily,
And could without shame.
And that is a picture,
I hope you do see,
Of boundless emotion,
Of care without end;
For to love with pure passion,
You must always be true,
Being ready to die,
For who eer you do choose.
Monday, November 10, 2003 - Joshua Howard
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
John 15:13
A boy asked a question,
While he was at play,
Inquisitive he was,
By nature you see.
His father was speaking,
To mother was he,
When kindly he told her,
I love you, my dear.
The little boy pondered,
He didnt quite grasp,
So with interest he asked,
What eer did you mean?
The father did turn,
He crouched to the floor,
And lifted the boy up,
Upon A worn knee.
In kindness he told him,
In simplicity true,
The story of love,
So as hed believe:
There was a grand king,
His domain was immense;
No thing did he lack,
So wealthy was he.
But joy he did loose,
When sadly he saw,
How many were ill,
Throughout that great land.
So from his grand splendors,
And from his great courts,
He left his own home,
And abode in dark streets.
The riches he'd owned,
He gave to the poor,
While with his pure garments,
He bandaged sore wounds.
But many did hate him,
They struck him with thorns;
Yet though he was bleeding,
Not one he denied.
And then he did die,
Alone and in pain,
While the last of his raiment,
Was given away.
Yet never he fled,
Through all that great time,
Though he could have gone easily,
And could without shame.
And that is a picture,
I hope you do see,
Of boundless emotion,
Of care without end;
For to love with pure passion,
You must always be true,
Being ready to die,
For who eer you do choose.
Monday, November 10, 2003 - Joshua Howard
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
John 15:13
