Martha's Gift
A man rode in on beat up steed
In a tattered cloak, and two bare feet
Passing signs, he could not read
The town folk gathered,to follow his lead
Famine was rampant, food was their need
For a stranger to pass here, was a long time indeed
and then stood before him, young Martha Meade
Her arm was out reached, with a handful of beads
He subtly smile, this sign he could read
He climbed from his saddle, and bent to one knee
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a seed
Her smile endearing, her heart without greed
He told her to run , to the field bye the reeds
and dig a small hole, in the midst of the weeds
Then wait a few moments, and soon she would see
The likes of a fruitful and mystical tree
and yes his words were true indeed
Those roots took hold with lightening speed
And fluffy clouds could not impede
Its quest to all the village feed.
Copyright © Joe Inka | Year Posted 2005
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