 |
What kind of man are you,
Having a hundred sheep;
One wanders bids adieu,
Do you just go to sleep?
Because you have lost one,
Do you leave ninety nine;
To search for the lost son,
Or get drunk on some wine.
So what would be the cost,
To go and find the stray;
And recover the lost,
That has wandered away.
But when you do retrieve,
It will make you so glad;
Be able to achieve,
And not be getting mad.
So you lift up your voice,
And call to your neighbors;
You just want to rejoice,
Because of your labors.
Now time to celebrate,
For the lost sheep was found;
The lamb was spared his fate,
You make a joyous sound.
So I can guarantee,
Happiness is assured;
Heaven is filled with glee,
And you now have matured.
For your spiritual standards,
Must be able to grow;
Never to go backwards,
Merely as rivers flow.
So if we become weak,
No longer in the light;
Then the darkness we seek,
Steering us from His sight.
Copyright © 2014 Richard Newton Sherrer
Vote for this poem
The Lost
|
|
|
|
©2000 - 2022, Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.
Visit My Home Page | Start Your Own Poetry Site | PoetryPoem
[ Control Panel ] [ Today's Poetry - ALL Poets ] [ Search ]
|
|
