The rose eternal,
Blooming in this world infernal,
Soft and delicate is its bloom,
As a baby fresh from womb.
This rose trampled by man and beast,
Treated as if it were the least,
Of all blooming buds,
Crushed beneath feet which thud,
Heavily upon the pastoral ground,
A dolorous morose sound.
This rose trampled down,
Then woven into a thorny crown.
This rose placed upon a brow,
Oh but some may yet see how,
This act is a strange irony,
For they know things which yet are and be,
That this rose is the rose of Sharon,
They are in fact type and anti-type, one.
The rose trampled on the ground,
The man who was bound,
For our sin.
And died for all men.
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7 comments:
great poem Steven! I love the line that says "this rose trampled down, then woven into a thorny crown", such great imagery! Keep up the great work! I'll let you know my subject shortly..
Thank you David. Sure thing, if you post it to facebook it would be much appreciated. Any topics people come up with will be a great help. I am trying to hit 1 a day for the next year (I know I have set that goal before, but having topics from other people will help, as will the accountability.)
It is quite beautiful, Steven. Thanks for using my idea.I'd like to try setting it to music if that's okay with you. I can't promise that I'll be successful, but I'd like to give it a shot.
It is very beautiful, Steven. Thanks for using my idea. I would like to try setting it to music if that's alright with you.
That is fine. I would enjoy hearing it. If you need any modification to fit a meter or anything of that nature let me know, I can give it a try.
Sorry, I commented twice because my first comment didn't show up right away. :S
No problem. They don't show up till I approve them.
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