The Final Rest

There was a little girl who walked down a lonely road.
She struggled with the days of life on which her seeds were sowed. She came upon a funny dog sometimes called a bitch. Although the dog seemed pretty it was really a little wench.

How could she make this mammal see the beauty in heavenly grace that prevails in the smallest of christians the picture of a godly face. She thought of the problem day and night which troubled her darkest dreams. Then the dog became a serpent when torn away from it's covering seams.

The child was struck by sadness. With thunder the rain did pour. And then the days were darkened as the girl was weakened more.

The angels began to watch her. To cheer her they did their best, but gripped by the sudden sickness she laid down to take a rest.

In her peaceful sleeping came along the evil beast that slashed a paw against her throat. On her prize she began to feast.

The dog was thrown beneath the ground for the inconceivable death. So came the name the devil for all the evil left.

Angels took the tiny body for in her was no breath and with a cry of mourning she was laid for a final rest.

I wrote this poem 22 years ago when I was a child.