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 Category:  Spiritual Poetry
  Posted: January 15, 2021      Views: 42

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I have always been a writer at heart, but only since March of 2015 have I had a chance to explore the possibility of this being a real gift. I loved sewing quilts, making jam and pickles, planting seeds and tending them into fruitfulness, keeping h - more...

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This work has reached the exceptional level
She stormed the gates of Heaven
"Heaven's Gift" by Cass Carlton
"Through glittering stars come thou with me
The gates of Earth and all they keep
Forsake so mortal eyes may see
What Man knows not except in sleep"

So spoke an angel to a sorrowing bride
Who wept and grieved for the baby son
She joyfully bore the man at her side
And prayed for the life of her little one.

Her prayers were wafted on sacred wings
To the Throne where nought is hidden
A messenger was sent from the King of KIngs
To bring them thither as they were bidden

Then was called every heavenly being
The great, the small, the shy, the fair
Some came with harps, some just for seeing
The Lord's Will done before them there.

Across the throng there fell a hush
As they waited in silence with folded wings
Around the Throne dawned a golden blush
Into the stillness came the King of Kings

Around His Head burned Holy fire
His Face so wondrous none could see
His Voice was like a golden lyre
As He said so gently ":Come to Me"

The two came to His Feet and knelt
And asked for the life of their baby, dead.
He leaned from the Throne and then they felt
His tender blessing on each bowed head

"I give thee this thou mother mild"
And He gave her a rose most heavenly rare
"This is the soul of your baby man-child
Locked safely in earthly form so fair"

Then across the starry archway of sky
They ran with happiness hard to tell
And echoing back their joyous cry
"Praise Him" went ringing like a bell.

All Heaven watched as the rose was laid
O'er the heart that late was stilled
Then breath fluttered, the rose did fade
The baby lived as God had willed.

They never spoke of this night again
But stored it with other precious things.
Within their hearts, it would remain
The night they met The King of Kings

Author Notes
This the earliest poem I can remember writing. I was about 14 or15 at the time and very struck with stories about miracles. I know,it shows. At that age almost any kind of rhyming writing is acceptable. My family never knew until I was much older how ingrained my need to write was. Now at 80 years old, and a widow, I am free to indulge myself 24/7 if I want to. cheers Cass
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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© Copyright 2016. Cass Carlton All rights reserved.
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