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The plane with prawns
At my wake from the bed of life
And a walk to the sea shore
I saw no bend, no end
All was like a plane with grains of gain
I planned, played and prayed thru’ the plane
Along the path I saw a palm tree
I placed my hands at it and rested my back
Tho' with my heart panting
Could i see anyone chanting or ranting?
No! I mean not even psalms
As I leave with the palm leaves in my palms
I met the potter, he gave me two pots
And showed me a hut
where I slept unhurt
I ate and drank from the pots as I make sports
I picked some prawns on my path
What a great catch with no match?
Praising and prancing, I proceeded
On my plight in the plane
The prime plight that marked my plea;
A pail was planted in the plane
I planned and played into the pail
Just that i failed to pray
Even when there was no hail
There I hurt my legs, lost my prawns and broke my pots
But i didn't turn a prey
The potter shun his rays
Alas! A pail, that pains in the plane with prawns.
1Cor.10:12,
2Cor.9:10- 15.
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