Get up and listen to me,
Take heed to what I say;
Pampered women must see,
How to trust and obey.
The surefooted daughters,
Be not too confident;
Near the muddy waters,
To become impudent.
For days beyond a year,
Be troubled if flirty;
As they tremble in fear,
Once they reach puberty.
The grape season will fail,
For the wine to employ;
As thoughts of boys entail,
And becoming their toy.
Pampered women quiver,
Start trembling with fright;
Being nude and shiver,
Dancing in the moonlight.
Sackcloth around their waist,
Beating breast as they mourn;
For wine wanting to taste,
For new grapes to be born.
Mourn for all of the sand,
Where thorns and briars grow;
Mourn for some fertile land,
New crops able to sow.
The palace deserted,
The city neglected;
The airlines diverted,
The people rejected.
The Spirit poured from high,
The desert turned fertile;
As the relieving sigh,
In jumping a hurdle.
Blessed are those who plant,
As livestock freely roam;
For the Lord will enchant,
And be bringing them home.
Copyright © 2017 Richard Newton Sherrer
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