Tuesday, December 25, 2012

A servant King?

A servant King? Don’t make me laugh!
A servant King, indeed!

Kings are meant to sit on thrones,
With precious things to call their own,
While minions meet their needs.

A servant King? What can you mean? A stable? Not a crown?

A servant King? No signet ring? No flunkies bowing down?

His Kingdom’s where? His Kingdom’s what?
Well, now I’ve heard it all!

The King of kings, this servant King, was born where? In a stall?

Right royal nonsense, this all is!
A King of gentle power?
Of righteousness? And truth? And grace? Who triumphs every hour?

Well, let me see him, have a look (when I’ve a window in my day);
At half past four, or five, or six - see what he’s got to say.

So is that him? Your servant King?
A baby! Just this boy?
No sceptre? No attendants? Donkey’s bridle for a toy?

Is this your God? Your deity? The best that you can do?
These strips of cloth, are they his robes? No purple silk to wear?

The servant King! Behold the child! King’s ransom lying there!

© Stephen Poxon 2012
Former Officer


Anonymous said...

Great writing Stephen, and this compliment, from someone who majored in English Literature.

Thanks for a beautiful gift to receive on Christmas Day.

The Army's loss, is gain for those of us in the Methodist tradition. Let's see more of the same.

Canada and Bermuda

Anonymous said...

Very poignant, reflecting the world's scorn of He whom we worship and whose birth we celebrate this time of year. How blessed we are to recognize this "Pearl of great price", and give up all in order to purchase it...especially our idols.