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by Linda Ann Nickerson

THE LIVING WORD
Limericks of Love

In the beginning was the Word,
The Holy One, with Name unheard,
Until He formed the creatures all,
And Adam too, with names to call
Each living being, as it stirred.

Then man became consumed with pride,
Mistaken, fallen and tongue-tied.
Until he saw his own ill route,
Partaking of forbidden fruit,
With sorrows ever multiplied.

And so the Word was clothed in skin,
To enter earth and die for sin.
And silently, He gave His life,
Thus conquering both death and strife,
So hope for all begins again.

How often are the words untold
The ones we value more than gold?
We blather on without a care,
With idle words we ought not share,
While truth is being undersold.

In the beginning was the Word,
The Holy One, with Name unheard,
Who bought us back from our own ill,
And still, He honors our free will.
May His Name be preferred.

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Poetry: The unsaid word

by Linda Ann Nickerson

Poetry: The unsaid word

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