An offering for the Lord, they said
My garden full in prime
The rains have blessed the
Gourds and vines
And all this produce MINE.
I’ve given it my best you know
And surely God will cheer
And grant His favour, laud and boast
On what Cain managed here.
My brother watches sheep all day
With little sweat or skill
And when they fatten, plump and white
He leads them to the kill.
A foolish pass-time I conclude
No industry or toil.
And will this be his offering?
It makes a bloke’s blood boil!
Yes Abel you’re a waste
I say, on some old fable’s spin.
That God will only look to blood
To cover mortal sin
To gain an audience in His courts
And sense with joy His smile.
So Brother, sit and think on sheep
As I sweat all the while.
(Hebrews 11: 4)
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