Barbara Attaway

Rookie (Beaumont, Texas, USA)

The Gift - Poem by Barbara Attaway

We had hiked the hills a long, long way
My privilege was to gift their feet that day
Soak in warm water, soothe with mint lotion
Seemed to me just the right heaven-sent potion
My desire, you see, was to mimic my Lord

Their refusal to allow it caught me off guard
My gift was unwanted, unaccepted, and scorned
No concern had they; oh, my heart was torn
It occurred to me then how my Savior's gift waits
To be opened and entered as tabernacle gates

Will His everlasting Gift I glibly ignore
As He washes my feet on His infinite shore


Comments about The Gift by Barbara Attaway

  • (3/24/2008 11:54:00 AM)


    It occurred to me then how my Savior's gift waits
    To be opened and entered as tabernacle gates


    Miltonic way of expression... nice one
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  • (12/23/2007 12:10:00 PM)


    Hey, there, nce poetry and nice person behind the poem! Enjoyed reading. Thank you. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 9, 2006



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