Angelic Angles

 

 

Once in royal David’s city,
Stood a lowly cattle shed,
Where a mother laid her Baby,
In a manger for His bed:
Mary was that mother mild,
Jesus Christ, her little Child.

He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all,
And His shelter was a stable,
And His cradle was a stall:
With the poor, and mean, and lowly,
Lived on earth our Savior holy.

For He is our childhood’s pattern;
Day by day, like us, He grew;
He was little, weak, and helpless,
Tears and smiles, like us He knew;
And He cares when we are sad,
And he shares when we are glad.

And our eyes at last shall see Him,
Through His own redeeming love;
For that Child so dear and gentle,
Is our Lord in heaven above:
And He leads His children on,
To the place where He is gone.

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Pastors posting fluff on Facebook
longing to be liked for being hip
read from the dull world’s losing playbook
to sink with their own authorship;
virtue-signalling to the flock
(a milky slice of soggy toast)
while gallivanting ’round the block
and hoping that you’ll like their post.



 

Trump’s Amerikkka:
Haiku is now act of war
against Fascism ☺