Ujamaa Christian Poetry

THE KING


The trumpet sounds
Loudly; a warning.
She will see Him
Many days from now.
She makes herself ready.
Her skin soft and moist
From bathing in
The finest oils.
She sits fully clothed
In peacock plumage.
Awaiting...
The final trumpet.


Many days from now
She will see Him
Many days from now
He will send for her.
She sits unrumpled.
Her perfume choking
The rarefied air.
The trumpeter
Begins...
To her feet she stands.
Purple and blue silk
Unfurl aroud her shoes
Of finest gold.


She makes her way
Through prepared passage,
Time standing still.
The door opens...
She is standing
Face to face
With the King.
She pauses as He extends
Royal sceptor her way.
She knows what is expected.
She is prepared.
She dare not complain of
Her waiting...
She has not dared to
Come into His presence
Without a gift.

Written by Alice Parris

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Ujamaa Christian Poetry