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By Ken Blue January 6th, 2012. Filed under: Poems. |

By Ken Blue
There is a legend my mother told me,
About the Robin and the Dogwood tree.
The beautiful flowers for all to see,
Are my gifts to Jesus, who died on me.
You ask why the snarled and the crooked limbs?
So a cross may never be made of them.
To the Red Robin, the question was ask,
You were at the cross, so what was your task?
And how did you come by your breast so red?
By fluttering around to cool His head.
Some of His blood, it dripped down upon me,
And that’s how my red breast happened to be.
Whether a legend, or whether it’s true.
The robin and the tree changed; how about you?
January 7th, 2012 at 12:18 am
Thank you Brother Blue, I love this poem. I am thinking and praying for you. Also, at FBC, Surallah, South Cotabato, your name is mentioned every week during prayers..
January 7th, 2012 at 3:55 pm
Thanks Roger. Please give my thanks to the church for their prayers. God’s grace is sufficient.
Ken Blue
January 7th, 2012 at 7:39 pm
I like this one! Love you Grandpa 🙂