(written in the style of Hebrew poetry

as found in the Bible in the Psalms or

the Book of JOB.)


When I held out my hand to him

He turned his back on me;

When I spoke to him comforting words

He answered with a curse.

His heart was like a stone towards me

And his eyes blazed in anger.

Like a lion that roars at his prey,

So was his anger towards me;

And like a wolf that devours its meat,

So did he devour me in wrath.

Yet I spoke gently to him

And my words offered him hope.

Like rain that refreshes the grass

And like the dew of the morning,

So were my speeches to him.

Words of honey were on my lips

And my tongue dripped with sweetness,

Yet he rejected my offer.

He spurned my hand of friendship

He girt on his sword for war

And prepared his weapons of death.


What shall I do with my enemy?

How shall I protect my family?

I shall call my friends from afar

And summon my neighbours to help.

We shall confront him together;

Together we will plead our cause.

‘Come, let us dine together,

‘Let us drink wine and be merry.

‘Lay down your weapons of war

‘And put your sword back in its sheath.

’Choose the way of peace

‘And let not hatred burn in your heart.

‘Let us live in the land like brothers

‘For we share the same father

‘And our forebears gave us birth.’


Yet he spurned my offers of peace.

Love had no place in his heart.

Greed was his father

And his mother was envy.

His friends were war and destruction

And he loved the paths of death.

Like a vulture that soars on high

Seeking carrion flesh for food,

So he sent his planes over me

And his drones sought out my nest

Flashes of lightening flew from his wings

And hailstones dropped from his belly.


‘Come, let us flee, let us hide;

‘Bury ourselves in the earth

‘And hide ourselves in dens.

‘Let us cover our heads with tin

‘And put bronze upon our backs.’


Yet he relented not,

Nor did mercy seek him out,

For vengeance was in his heart

And his loins were girt for war.


How foolish are those who fight,

Who reject the ways of peace.

Who would reject a bride?

Or spurn the advance of a maid?

Who would reject his father?

Or spurn the mother who bore him?

Yet such are those warmongers,

Those merchants of death and destruction.


Take them not as your friends, my son;

Let them not sit at the table with you,

For evil is in their hearts

And the ways of peace they know not.

Seek men of peace, my son,

And make straight paths for your feet.

For surely the righteous will win

And the meek shall inherit the earth.


                      David Reed  Nov 2016




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