The Story Of Christ. Poem by R. K. Hart

Come sit with me little one and a story I will tell,
Of the birth of a babe, where cattle and sheep dwell.
Of Angels heralding the birth of a baby king,
Of a town called Bethlehem and bright stars shining.

Of the obedient gentle Mary, the blessed one,
And swaddling wrapped baby son.
Golden corn and sweetly perfumed straw,
For the animals fodder and adorning the floor.

Of the parents stealing into the night,
Getting their son from Herod’s sight.
His soldiers would have murdered the innocent,
The newborn of every family was his intent.

In Nazareth they would reside, working with wood,
Obeying earthly and heavenly fathers, as he should.
Comes a day to the temple he must advance,
Where priest and learned hear his words askance.

He preaches and cures whilst on earth he abides,
Baptised by John and with the Sadducees collides.
Changes water into wine, he calms raging stormy sea,
Feeds the thousands and sets the leper free.

Then the kiss of a dear friend was a sign,
The cross is closer and leaving earth behind.
Upon a cross Christ would suffer and die,
His suffering evil to mind, heart and eye.

However, rejoice Christian because he did arise.
The third day arose from his demise.
Heavens Angels rolled the stone away,
With doubt disciples fall into disarray.

Today he reigns on heavens throne,
For the world and my sins, he did atone.
Soon to earth, he is coming to rule and reign.
Because of the cross, Satan’s efforts are in vein.