Array ( [sid] => 176851 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Ant [time] => 2013-09-12 23:50:36 [hometext] => Word from God inspired through His son Sakkie [bodytext] => 13:09:2013....

Look at the ant so small and meek.
Don't be fooled it's not so week.
We have much to learn from this tiny creature.
Almost as if it were a teacher.
It has no leader nor master.
Yes not even a pastor.
Yet it goes about its work.
Not like some lazy jerk.
Preparing for the winter ahead.
Storing mounts of food in its shed.
So to must we gather our supplies.
It will be winter before you can open your eyes.
However supplies being referred to.
Is not bread milk and butter too.
It's of the spiritual kind.
That feeds the soul and mind.
Don't be caught in doubt.
Because in your heart is a drought.
Prepare well my brother.
Second chance, you won't get another.
When the Father descends.
It will be too late to make amends.

RR [comments] => 2 [counter] => 104 [topic] => 11 [informant] => RussellReinhardt [notes] => Spelling corrected per request ~ Moderator_18 Sept 13, 2013 [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => ChristianPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - The Ant


The Ant
Date: Thursday, 12th September 2013 @ 11:50:36 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: RussellReinhardt
13:09:2013....

Look at the ant so small and meek.
Don't be fooled it's not so week.
We have much to learn from this tiny creature.
Almost as if it were a teacher.
It has no leader nor master.
Yes not even a pastor.
Yet it goes about its work.
Not like some lazy jerk.
Preparing for the winter ahead.
Storing mounts of food in its shed.
So to must we gather our supplies.
It will be winter before you can open your eyes.
However supplies being referred to.
Is not bread milk and butter too.
It's of the spiritual kind.
That feeds the soul and mind.
Don't be caught in doubt.
Because in your heart is a drought.
Prepare well my brother.
Second chance, you won't get another.
When the Father descends.
It will be too late to make amends.

RR

This poem is Copyright © RussellReinhardt


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