Wednesday, April 23, 2008


This is an attempt at a poem I wrote last night.

With a sword doth she lift above,
to shout of Christ's redeeming love.

Though a dungeon cell was her fate,
eternal glory was there in wait.

Even burdened with her fleshly sin,
Hell's battles did she ever win.

With God's blessing on her side,
against the world's unhelpful chide.

She hoisted up God's banner high,
and under the wait nay did she sigh.

When in battle she was there and led,
though others blood she never shed.

For God's great power is not for war,
but for loving and helping ever the more.

So cast away that wrothful heart,
and into God's love may you never part.

Copyright 2008 © Megan Comstock

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