Poem for Matthew 24.29-51

Jesus is my Lord and coming thief

But what he steals won't cause me grief

I don't know when, but when he comes I'll know

The only kind thief announced with trumpet blow

Most thief stake my that or your this

But my thief takes what is rightfully his

Sun, moon, and stars you can usually trust

Eventually, will one day, go bust

Kingdoms totter and nation will rise against nation

Then won't pass more than one generation

And all eyes will see, and ears hear the coming thief

And what he steals will be great relief.