The Book Of Enoch Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A story old, from times long past,
Not history, meant to forever last.
The Book of Enoch, a tale to tell,
Of angels who fell, and a mighty spell.

It speaks of giants, so very grand,
And journeys to skies, in a faraway land.
But rabbis and churches, they shook their head,
'Not God's own word, ' they wisely said.

Some churches kept it, a special treat,
But most said no, its truth not sweet.
A book of wonder, a story spun,
Not gospel truth, when all is done.

Though some still hold it, a special find,
For most, it's folklore, of a different kind.
A book of visions, a legend bright,
Not truth for all, in its mystic light.