Poem on Matthew 13.1-9, 18-23
he didn't take caution about where to throw
the seed was too precious to keep and grow stale
he had a vision for a great big bale
or bales and bales and bales of grain
not left over seed to go down the drain
so he threw on the path but as soon as it hit
those evil birds came to devour it
and he threw on the rocky ground too
a quick plant grew but without roots it was through
he threw among thorns just in case they would win
but the thorns choked them out--did them in
some hit soil like the red river or central valley
my oh my what a glorious tally
a hundred fold, sixty, and in another thirty
all because that sower went where it was dirty
Lord, I have ears to hear
nothing but your seed is more dear
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