The last wise man

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Poem Commentary

the birth of our LOrd Jesus christ...its the begining of christmas

The last wise man

Gently and quietly,

I sat with my friends,

Studying what goes on beyond our planet,

On a cold winter night.

We have been doing this over the years,

I could swear that I know the number of the stars in the universe.

Look! A star! A new star!

So bright and lovely,

This could only mean one thing,

A king is born to us!

We hurriedly packed our things and made haste to follow the star,

We followed over the mountains and across the desert,

First it seemed like an endless journey,

But the star kept moving.

As we journeyed through the cold night,

I wondered what my gift would be to this newborn king.

A shout came from behind me,

‘If we find this new born king, I’d offer him my precious gift of gold’

Another exclaimed," mine is going to be myrrh"

Yet another "frankincense"

I was troubled within me,

What gift would I offer to this king that has been born?

Silver and gold I do not have!

We arrived Bethlehem at the darkest hour,

To our surprise,

The star we had seen from the east suddenly disappeared!

What went wrong? We asked one another

We headed to the palace of king Herod.

We were anxious to know whether he knew something about this new king.

At first the palace seemed empty and quiet.

How on earth could a Great King be born

In a city and the people would be asleep?

We enquired, and set off again.

Lo and behold,

The star!

We wasted no time and followed the star to the place called the manger.

My friends opened their gifts of gold, myrrh and frankincense.

I drew close to my king,

knelt before Him,

And whispered in my Savior’s ears:

‘My master and Lord, I have nothing to offer you,

That will equate your status.

I offer my poor little heart and my service.

So at every Christmas, I remember my gift to the newborn King.

I treasure my Lord and King,

He’s the source of all earth’s treasure:

He opens to me the storehouse of divine resources.

"For unto us is born this day in the city of David a Savior,

Which is Christ the Lord".

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Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

princeandrew’s Poems (12)

Title Comments
Title Comments
STREET OF DEATH 0
The last wise man 0
FEAR 0
The beauty of sin. 2
THANK YOU GOD! 0
death! 0
God’s love for me 1
A WANDERING MAN BEFORE. 0
GOD’S LOVE AT CHRISTMAS 0
A MIGHTY GOD 0
hopeful 0
HE HAS RISEN! (JESUS) 1