Denis Martindale Poems
Comments about Denis Martindale
* The Cross Of Christ
The jeering crowd like jackals stood,
To see what must be done.
Though once they thought this man was good,
They didn't see God's Son.
They called Him Rabbi, Teacher, Lord,
Yet now He was Rome's slave.
So all His claims were now ignored,
For who was He to save?
The nails were driven deep inside...
More drops of blood soon fell...
Once lifted, hoisted, crucified,
His life was just like Hell.
Torment and torture lay ahead.
His scourged back stung and bled and bled
As briars bruised His brain.
His mother wept each passing ...
The Finest Gift Of All!
Mankind was so in need of love that God let Jesus leave,
Departing from Christ's Throne above, for Mary to conceive.
And she, a maiden, listened well to Gabriel sent below,
For he had such a tale to tell, yet truths that she must know.
For by consent the Saviour came, as yet unborn within,
Awaiting birth to learn His Name, the Son who died for sin.
That name we know as Jesus Christ, with Christmas still in mind,
In truth, the Father sacrificed His Son for all Mankind.