RAPTURE
Tomorrow makes no sense,
Try to discern the times,
Evident in the Earth,
Vivid in our minds,
To live is CHRIST,
To die is gain,
Choose this day whom you will serve,
Nothing else matters playing to the last refrain,
The harvest is plenty,
The laborers are few,
The time is growing short,
And there is still so much left to do;
My soul is prepared,
How are you?
Brimming with anticipation,
Still thankful for the Morning Dew,
Are the lights on?
Are the wicks still burning?
For all of the times someone has said, “This is it!!!”
We resolve and ready for YOUR Returning,
The sky cracks,
Clouds bow and break apart,
I can see YOU smile,
There’s a twinkling in YOUR eye,
There’s a stirring in the spirit,
Joy flooding the captured heart,
Whatever the day, the month, or the hour,
Sweet JESUS, I want to be ready,
Tending the field – calm and steady,
Doing what we are called to do,
Only raptured in the Rapture,
Because I’m already caught up in YOU!!!
The Pecking Order
In determining king of the coop and ruler of the run,
There is but one determining factor,
And, here is how it’s done:
Not by brain,
Though the thought did occur,
Not by braun,
Though it’s nice to have hulk and spur,
Not by fortune,
Most every bird has a little nest egg,
Not by fame,
They still don’t recognize Mr. Leghorn,
Not by looks,
Neither comb, nor waddle, nor tail,
Not by reach of talon or length of leg;
Pedigree doesn’t matter,
Hen’s don’t care how you were bred,
No respecters of Australorp, Orpington, or Rhode Island Red,
They don’t even care if you’re a Silkie or a Dominicker;
It’s a simple process,
A bit like natural selection but even quicker:
The ladies elect a brute and beak checker,
An inspector, if you will,
And she picks the cock with …..the biggest pecker!!!
The Manic Minstrel 