Rumble harder
He's our Father
Sit down at his feet
From the larder to his charger
Who provides the meat
Telling of nutrition
A diet that's complete
Sound the horn
His people morn
Don't let us wither
In His time
He prunes the vine
Ready to deliver
Sow and sow
For all we know
Prospers this or that
Have a go
But don't be slow
No one knows when
He is on his way back.
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 25th, 2026 11:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
A fun read with great rhyme that gives images reminiscent of old gods of the hunt and harvest. Well dome
Valiantstar, this carries a strong pulpit rhythm to it, my friend. It feels meant to be spoken aloud…part sermon cadence, part call-and-response, part warning cry. There’s real urgency and conviction moving through the whole piece. Powerful write. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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