The Donkeys

A poem

The Donkeys

By Mary

3-31-2017

There stood the donkey

A lean, brown burro.

Lengthy ears twitched

Eyes in a furrow.

On his gentle face,

Was a look of puzzle

Soft as queen’s lace

Was his brown, curly muzzle.

Once there was a donkey

Who stopped before the angel’s cloak.

“Go, go!” Cried his master,

And then the humble donkey spoke.

“Do not kick me,

I’ve saved your life!

Do you not see the angel,

With the long knife?”

Then the man saw

And fell to his knees.

The man’s life was saved

All because of a donkey.

Once there was another donkey

Who carried the children of Noah’s son, Shem

Across Judea they trekked.

All the way to Bethlehem.

There a baby was born;

Born with no cry.

Shepherds and kings gathered ‘round,

The Angles sang on high.

The donkey sniffed the hand,

That would make blind men see.

He had carried Him there,

The little donkey.

There once was a donkey foal,

Who had never been ridden

On a count of a chance

That you would probably be bitten.

The master tried to train him,

Poor man, he had no luck.

For whenever he tried to ride him,

He’d whirl and buck.

One day he met a Man,

He carried no club, no sword.

Yet this colt knew who he was,

He bowed before the LORD.

He carried the Man,

Into town.

Under his feet.

Palm branches laid down.

Through all the yells of “Hallelujah!”

He did not run or bolt.

Through all the noise and yells,

On walked the donkey colt.

Through all the palms branches and fuss,

He did not jump or run.

He did not skid or jolt,

Until the work was done.

The world would never be the same:

The God of all,

Came humble and small,

Died on a tree,

Riding on a humble donkey.