Blessed are we, who live in His Majesty,
As death comes, and vivid leaves fallen,
And we rise to His glory-once again!
Blessed are we, descendants of nobility,
When darkest night enters on satin feet,
And in hallowed luster, again we meet!
Blessed are we, to bask in love's purity,
His greatest of caring, forever been,
Giving fields of spring, how very green!
And fragrant flower, deepest red rose,
And dulcet bowers, where robin goes,
And beauty's many shades of subtleness.
So, warning bell causes no distress.
For The Watchman never sleeps,
He hears our prayers;
Our time He keeps.
Blessed be the child of Christmas morn;
Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn!
Impressive work...beautifully inspired by the Beatitudes, but quite original and more importantly, pleasing to the eyes and Mind of this Reader of Verse.[FjR-MMXX]
Thank you for your very kind words. I am thrilled that you found my poem pleasing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Blessed are we covered by His love that when w slip and fall, he picks us up with care and set our feet back on track. Nicely written...10 +.
So true. If you give your heart to Him, He will never let you down. Thank you for the eloquent comment.