Friday 30 November 2007


The fruit was good, and sweet, and ripe
It pleased the eye, the mouth, the hand
As juices flowed that warmed my throat
I ate, and flesh gave way to flesh
As what grew treasure now was food
I tasted, and declared it good

And now I truly know the sweet,
For sweet it was, and ripe, and good,
And sweet the sharing that we had
This first we could call ours alone
So all fruit else at last we know
Is less, is loss, is least, is low

Now all our labour shows itself
Misguided, for our hands have worked
To plant the seed of bitter herbs
To train the branch for sour fruit
And all because we have believed
The one in whom we were deceived

No lie will stand against the truth
No one is just, not even one
All power, seen rightly, is abuse
At last, at last our eyes see clear.
Footsteps betray him that draws nigh:
Our faithless master come to spy

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It's great to get comments - a good way to encourage, challenge and help me! Thank you. Jeremy