The call was clear but who wants to hear <br />Take up your cross and come on over here <br />I turned a deaf ear to my Saviour there <br />And followed the crowd that was very near <br /> <br />We laughed and we talked ignoring the call <br />We strolled and we giggled throughout the mall <br />Not paying attention to the things on the stall <br />My eyes caught a glimpse of a figure on the wall <br /> <br />I looked at the picture the artist had scrawled <br />And seeing my Redeemer my heart was appalled <br />The look on His face could not be erased <br />With tears in my eyes His love I embraced <br /> <br />I sat on a stool quite close to the pool <br />And thought of the times I thought I was cool <br />I reflected on that sermon the cross and the rule <br />Then heard a voice clearly don’t play the fool <br /> <br />With knees all trembling and eyes full of tears <br />I bowed myself lowly and sought for the stairs <br />No sooner I found them in great unawares <br />He gently hugged me and dried my tears <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />All rights reserved. <br />Written by G. B. Prince<br /><br />Gladys Brown Prince<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-call-55/
