An Unopened Book
The Shepherd's Gift
The Shepherd's Gift
The night was late, in the fields I watched my sheep.
My eyes were heavy I was on my way to sleep.
When a bright star began to shine in the night.
The days sun could not compare to its bright light.
In it's light angels host around did gently appear.
With mixed emotions of both excitement and fear.
They joined their voices proudly the did sing.
Joy to the world, the birth of a newborn king.
Born to us this day in a city not so far away.
Wrapped in swaddling clothes lay on the hay.
Beckoning for us go to see him; Christ the Lord.
But what could I bring, a gift I could not afford.
Not one that would be fit to give a newborn king.
I had my gift my voice I would offer a song to sing.
With my friends we travel to a manger to find the babe.
That the angels voices told us was born to us this day.
I watched as others presented gifts of great worth.
Each on was good enough for a king on his birth.
With all my want I wanted to turn and walk away.
When a man with tears in his eyes begged me to stay.
At last my time had come I came forward to his mother.
I begged for forgiveness I had no gift like all the others.
She smiled somehow she knew my gift I had inside.
She whispered quietly I know the gift you humbly hide.
Go ahead dear friend lift your voice let him hear you sing.
With all my heart I sang my gift to my newborn king.
My voice was strong, the words came out pure and sweet.
Tears in his parents eyes they knew my gift couldn't be beat.
On the last chorus of my gift those around joined in song.
Together our voices were true each voice sang out strong.
With a smile Mary spoke to me well done a great gift you bring.
A gift like the others is fit to give him, our newborn king.
I saw Christ the great King but only once more.
In the streets I watch him carry a cross that he bore.
Pain in my heart I tears filled my eyes, I began to sing.
The song that I had given to a once newborn king.
Although now my voice was softend with age and time.
In glanced in a direction that direction was mine.
Maybe somehow he remember my gift, my song I sing.
And continue to do so in praise of Christ my King.
D.Cody Herring
December,2014
The night was late, in the fields I watched my sheep.
My eyes were heavy I was on my way to sleep.
When a bright star began to shine in the night.
The days sun could not compare to its bright light.
In it's light angels host around did gently appear.
With mixed emotions of both excitement and fear.
They joined their voices proudly the did sing.
Joy to the world, the birth of a newborn king.
Born to us this day in a city not so far away.
Wrapped in swaddling clothes lay on the hay.
Beckoning for us go to see him; Christ the Lord.
But what could I bring, a gift I could not afford.
Not one that would be fit to give a newborn king.
I had my gift my voice I would offer a song to sing.
With my friends we travel to a manger to find the babe.
That the angels voices told us was born to us this day.
I watched as others presented gifts of great worth.
Each on was good enough for a king on his birth.
With all my want I wanted to turn and walk away.
When a man with tears in his eyes begged me to stay.
At last my time had come I came forward to his mother.
I begged for forgiveness I had no gift like all the others.
She smiled somehow she knew my gift I had inside.
She whispered quietly I know the gift you humbly hide.
Go ahead dear friend lift your voice let him hear you sing.
With all my heart I sang my gift to my newborn king.
My voice was strong, the words came out pure and sweet.
Tears in his parents eyes they knew my gift couldn't be beat.
On the last chorus of my gift those around joined in song.
Together our voices were true each voice sang out strong.
With a smile Mary spoke to me well done a great gift you bring.
A gift like the others is fit to give him, our newborn king.
I saw Christ the great King but only once more.
In the streets I watch him carry a cross that he bore.
Pain in my heart I tears filled my eyes, I began to sing.
The song that I had given to a once newborn king.
Although now my voice was softend with age and time.
In glanced in a direction that direction was mine.
Maybe somehow he remember my gift, my song I sing.
And continue to do so in praise of Christ my King.
D.Cody Herring
December,2014
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The Shepherd`s Gift
The Shepherd`s Gift
