The Butterbean That Was Not To Be
Not a weed, a tiny peck of seed I was.
Floating down from heavens clouds, I was picked from a crowd.
Planted inside my mommy’s womb, not knowing I was already doomed.
Beams from Heaven, I began to grow, like a cute butterbean, I began to show.
For you see it is me, a princess I shall be, for all shall see.
Like a butterbean shooting sprouts, my little arms came out. My hands, fingers wiggled, as I giggled.
But you see, my mommy didn’t want her little butterbean, she was listening to the devil being mean.
Like a butterbean, I sprouted more, my little feet, kicking to defeat.
But my butterbean is no more; I am again on heaven’s door.
I cry for the princess I shall not be for all to see.
"As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all."
Ecclesiates 11:5
Jill Dill Vincent
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Cheers,
Dan
budd