Dumb poem I came up with
PostPosted: Tue Jul 06, 2004 11:09 am
Hey everyone... This is a dumb little ditty I came up with in about 30 minutes. Maybe you'll get a laugh out of it. (It's copywritten 2004 to Godly Paladin, BTW...)
Did you hear the story of Farmer McRee
Who stood in a plain with nary a tree?
He drunk from a cup that was crafted from tin,
When all of a sudden there came such a din!
A gold bolt of lightning had blasted his head,
And he died with only some grass for a bed.
His hat was blown off, his shoes burnt to ashes,
But his soul was not dead, and it rose with bright flashes.
It ascended to heaven with the speed of a bird,
Over tree, over house, over buffalo herd.
"This is quite odd, what could be the problem?"
He thought to himself as he soared like a robin.
The world did fade like a sad promenade,
Replaced by two gates made of pink lemonade.
McRee was awonder, his mouth slightly gaping,
When out of the mist came and angel named Ging-Ging.
Ging-Ging then spoke, with a terrible loudness,
That sent McRee shaking, but his fears were all foundless.
"How may you enter? What be your name?
Is your name in the Book, or is your hope all in vain?"
"My Lord is Christ Jesus, my Savior is He,
And I know that He died and rose after three."
Ging-Ging flipped through the pages with evident glee,
For he saw, to his joy, the name of 'McRee'.
He swung open the gates with a heave and a shout,
McRee did a caper and danced all about.
The lesson that's learned from this little tale,
Is life-giving, life-saving, and makes lightening pale.
Christ Jesus our savior, He loves us dearly,
That's why He died long ago on the tree.
Well...there it is. Yes, it is entirely original. Can't you tell? After you recover from your shock tell me what you think, 'kay?
Did you hear the story of Farmer McRee
Who stood in a plain with nary a tree?
He drunk from a cup that was crafted from tin,
When all of a sudden there came such a din!
A gold bolt of lightning had blasted his head,
And he died with only some grass for a bed.
His hat was blown off, his shoes burnt to ashes,
But his soul was not dead, and it rose with bright flashes.
It ascended to heaven with the speed of a bird,
Over tree, over house, over buffalo herd.
"This is quite odd, what could be the problem?"
He thought to himself as he soared like a robin.
The world did fade like a sad promenade,
Replaced by two gates made of pink lemonade.
McRee was awonder, his mouth slightly gaping,
When out of the mist came and angel named Ging-Ging.
Ging-Ging then spoke, with a terrible loudness,
That sent McRee shaking, but his fears were all foundless.
"How may you enter? What be your name?
Is your name in the Book, or is your hope all in vain?"
"My Lord is Christ Jesus, my Savior is He,
And I know that He died and rose after three."
Ging-Ging flipped through the pages with evident glee,
For he saw, to his joy, the name of 'McRee'.
He swung open the gates with a heave and a shout,
McRee did a caper and danced all about.
The lesson that's learned from this little tale,
Is life-giving, life-saving, and makes lightening pale.
Christ Jesus our savior, He loves us dearly,
That's why He died long ago on the tree.
Well...there it is. Yes, it is entirely original. Can't you tell? After you recover from your shock tell me what you think, 'kay?