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A Poem To A King
Another dawn, the sun stands
As a mighty soldier ready for war.
Standing there like it is waiting
To salute someone great;
Indeed, to salute the King himself.
Nature with its glorious face,
Gracing down to wipe his face,
The sleeping trees and the quiet
Environment are paying homage,
A loyalty birthed in respect and love.
A heart made of pure gold,
Look at the sky, she is extravagantly
Painted with a blueberry paint
A sign of vastness.
So as I feast on this green moment
Grazing the beauty of this day,
And as I walk swinging like
A Christmas bell, dancing as a
Sober drunkard, What a motion!
I hear the chirping birds singing
The king's song "Long Live The King,
May The King Live On Forever
Bless His Name And Sing Songs Of
Glory For The Many Battles Won,
Live On, Live On, Live On".
© Habakkuk Kargbo (Rabbi)
As a mighty soldier ready for war.
Standing there like it is waiting
To salute someone great;
Indeed, to salute the King himself.
Nature with its glorious face,
Gracing down to wipe his face,
The sleeping trees and the quiet
Environment are paying homage,
A loyalty birthed in respect and love.
A heart made of pure gold,
Look at the sky, she is extravagantly
Painted with a blueberry paint
A sign of vastness.
So as I feast on this green moment
Grazing the beauty of this day,
And as I walk swinging like
A Christmas bell, dancing as a
Sober drunkard, What a motion!
I hear the chirping birds singing
The king's song "Long Live The King,
May The King Live On Forever
Bless His Name And Sing Songs Of
Glory For The Many Battles Won,
Live On, Live On, Live On".
© Habakkuk Kargbo (Rabbi)
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