Rhyme: Egyptland Poem by Caryl Ramsdale

Up from the Hebron Valley
Came Jacob's eleventh son;
Searching for his father's flocks,
Hiked Jacob's favorite one.
His brothers saw him coming
As they were grazing the herd.
They plotted to kill him and
Promised not to say a word.
'Don't spill his blood, ' Rueben said,
'Use this well, don't kill this one.'
Rueben planned to rescue him
'Cause he was Jacob's good son.
'Sell to traders' said Judah,
We' ll be guilty if we kill';
The favored one was rescued
By the two who loved him still.
Paid eight ounces of silver;
With a blood soaked robe in hand;
Sons entered their father's house—
A slave entered Egyptland.