A Gate Called Beautiful - Poem by Royston Allen
There is a gate called Beautiful
from which they heard the cripple's call
and silver and gold could never repay
the healing that he received that day.
'Look at us', to him Peter and John said
and gave not money but healing instead.
Reaching out to him they took his hand
and the crippled man began to stand.
Then walking and leaping he was healed
and the mighty power of Jesus' was revealed.
I've found a place even more beautiful
a place where everyone can come and call.
To buy without money for the price was paid
when the awfulness of sin on Jesus was laid.
For on a cross at that place called Calvary
the love of God is shown for us all to see.
I came to that cross all crippled with sin
and the blood of Jesus cleansed me within.
Reaching out to me He took my hand
and this sin crippled man is able to stand.
Based on Acts 3: 1-10
Poet's Notes about The Poem
One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer - at three in the afternoon. Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, ‘Look at us! ' So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.
Then Peter said, ‘Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.' Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man's feet and ankles became strong. He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God. When all the people saw him walking and praising God,10 they recognised him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.
All quotations ©NIV
Comments about A Gate Called Beautiful by Royston Allen
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe