The Prodigal Son in the Key of S
A story of a son who sought to sail away,
From the safe, solid, shelter he soon began to sway.
He silently schemed to separate with his saved inheritance,
And scamper off seeking his own solitary dance.
The son soon asked for his stupendous, swelling, share,
And his father sad with sorrow, could only stand and stare,
As his second son would too soon seek to separate,
from his secure, sustaining, family and home estate.
He started on his solitary streak of satisfaction,
And found the city lights a very strong attraction.
He squandered his sizable wealth on savory food,
smart friends, strong drink, and sleek fashion that wooed.
But his senseless spending rate, that stupefied the eyes,
soon scorched his salary dry, as days passed speedily by.
One day his so-called pals suddenly upped and sped away,
Because self-indulging satisfaction he could no longer pay.
When a severe food scarcity had swept all through the states,
The sensational star was stripped, from all his splendor by fate.
He soon started to stumble over simple daily things,
As his money was senselessly spend, and his life was on a string.
The starving son staggered to a swine field, and solicited for work,
He was soon submerged in the smell of swine, who seemed to only smirk.
As they snorted, stamped, and squealed, as the slop they scoffed it down,
swelling and sprouting up, to be sold at a substantial town.
The son's staving stomach would squirm at the sight of food,
His mind strayed to spin at the sight, of the swill that he viewed.
The longing to eat that substance, steadily strained his mind,
Any man would lose his sanity with starvation and swine combined.
The son regained his senses and what he saw really caught his breath.
His father's servants had solid food, while he was starving to death.
He would stride back to his father and simply ask him to,
make him his father's servant; that was all the son could do.
With this sensible thought in mind, the son soon set off for home.
He knew that he had sinned, against his father and him alone.
The son supposed that he wasn't worthy to be a sincere brother,
but only a servant striving to work for his father.
But as the shameful son, was still a stretch away from home,
His father saw him and shot off towards his son that had roamed.
As the son saw his father running, he strained himself not to sway,
The father hurled his arms around his selfish son who had strayed.
The son began his speech, but his father stopped him early,
He sent his servants to fetch his most spectacular robe swiftly.
He also gave his shocked son a ring and sturdy sandals in a jiffy,
He told the servants to ready the fatten calf for a feast swiftly.
But the son's brother was stupendously sullen when he heard the cheers.
He shrieked to his dad that he has been steadily slaving for years.
He never disobeyed his father or squandered all his money,
On shameful, senseless, selfish things that satisfied the sonny.
The father solemnly said, that everything he has is his alone,
But your brother is saved from his selfish sinfulness and came home.
That's why we'll start a splendid party and surely invite people far around.
For my selfish, self centered, stubborn son was lost and now is found.
God surely showed the son, grace, mercy, and compassion;
secluded as he was, from the blessing of our savior's passion.
He was solicitous to a seducing and quite singular style of life,
without morals or scruples, a lifestyle full of strife.
But God turned the spectacular sinning son's life and behavior,
back to the safety of the sovereign, safety of God our savior.
Remember that without the sincere, sensational, sovereign God;
We find the seemingly simple things in life are flawed;
solutions are insurmountable, no matter how hard we try.
But not when the seriously supremely, secure God is on our side.
Then even the most scientifically super-preposterously, speculation that awed,
Could be succeeded simply with the substantial and supernatural power of God.
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Comments about this poem (The Prodigal Son in the Key of S by Peter Tsai )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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