Poem by Erma J. Sybil (a.k.a. my grandma)

Hello readers. Thought you'd enjoy this poem by my grandma on my dad's side. This is where I get those poetry genes! Please do not steal the poem because that's not nice. I know none of my regular readers would be if you just happened to stumble across my lovely blog here just floating around in cyberspace, just remember it's copyrighted and stealing is wrong! Have a good spring break. Peace, paz, paix, frieden, pace, vrede, мир, fred,and 和平! Hope I didn't leave out any major languages there.

God Heard!

I stood in the crowd that day,
To hear what Pilate had to say.
"What shall I do with Jesus,
Who is called the Christ?" he asked.
"LET HIM GO," I cried!But no one heard!

A shout, "Crucify Him!"
Oh, how my heart sank low.
As the crowd took up the yell,
Their shouts and jeers thundered in my ears.
And I called out, "NO, DON'T!But no one heard!

Near Golgotha, on a cold hill I stood.
As nails plunged through flesh and wood.
My heart pounded with each hammer beat.
"STOP!" I screamed,"DON'T CRUCIFY MY LORD!"
But the pounding continued--For one one heard!

Shivering, I stayed on the hill and cried.
In the sixth hour, darkness like death overcame me.
Then I heard my Lord's voice echo through the night,
"Father, it is finished. Into your hands I commmit my Spirit."
And I yelled, "WHY HAD HE DIED?" But no one heard!

I awoke in anguish, to a dreary, sunless day.
With weeping heart, I wandered aimlessly away.
I could not eat, or sleep, or even pray,
For what good was life anyway. I cried--
"MY LORD DIED YESTERDAY!" But no one heard!

Sunday morning on the way to the tomb,
I picked a bouquet of poppies,which were in bloom.
The deep-red scarlet reminded me of Jesus' blood,
The white of his purity, the brilliant pink of His love.
I whispered, "I PICKED THESE FOR MY LORD." But no one heard!

Gathering my bouquet, I ran to the tomb.
"Empty!" I wailed. Grief and loneliness overcame me.
Slow of step and hanging head, I turned back to Galilee.
With quivering lips and bated breath, I repeated--
"WHERE HAVE THEY TAKEN MY LORD?" But no one heard!

There's Mary, talking and laughing.
Why isn't she weeping? Wasn't she there when Jesus died?
Doesn't she know our Lord was crucified?
Then I heard someone say, Jesus arose this morning,
Just as the Scriptures said. "YES, YES!" I said, I heard!

Running home with tears of joy streaming down my face,
I began to sing, to praise God and pray.
I thanked Him for eternal life,
For Jesus dying in my place.
And I thanked God because --HE HAD HEARD!
(C) by Erma J. Sybil