Amidst the Tears and Wails

Taken from the Garden

With sword and club and cheers

Sent before three false trials

Amidst the women's tears

Back and forth they sent him

None willing to send to jail

Pilate tried to set him free

Amidst the women's wails

A Roman scourge, a Roman cross

Three blacksmith's iron nails

That pierced the Son of God's pure flesh

Amidst the women's wails

Back and forth between two men

The insults and the jeers

Christ was raised up on that tree

amidst the women's tears

Six short hours suspended

Hung there by those nails

Then he cried, "It's done!"

Amidst the women's wails

He gave up mortal with a sigh

His side was pierced with spear

The water and the blood ran down

Amidst the women's tears

They buried Him in a tomb

Wrapped in linens, aloes bales

The stone was rolled into place

Amidst the women's wails

Come first day's dawn arising

An empty tomb was found

He is risen, Hallelujah!

and now,

He reigns aloft in Heaven

The price for sin He paid

We can rejoice that there we'll be,

Eternally,

No more tears, No more wails!

A wee bit of poetry

I was reading the book, Your Mama Don't Dance last week and noticed that Mrs. Colley had a poem at the end of each chapter. This got me thinking that perhaps the book I've been working on could use a poem or two.
Here's my first attempt. Let me know what you think!

No fateful weaver destines me, controls my road of life.

My decisions are my own, to bring me peace or strife.

No stars their portents writ, unchanging though I strive,

No celestial queen bids me a worker in her hive.

I once cursed the fates with bitter anger at my life their toy.

I instead now know the truth, and it brings me greatest joy.

God is in control, but my choices are my own.

I can forge a path of sin and death, or claim a starry crown.

My life has taught me many things, I’ve learned so much thus far,

And I’ve more to learn, though I’ll ne’er discern,

What lies beyond ‘thus far.’

I shall continue each new day, no longer fear my death.

When that cold tide o’er me rolls, I will welcome blessed rest.