Bethlehem’s Solitary Savior: A Poem

From the empty streets, wailing, weeping heard. Rachel’s hot tears falling on trembling hands. In darkness she there sits, moaning, heaving; hurt. A solitary, empty cradle in black corner stands. “The King, the King,” they did laughingly scorn Herod’s treacherous, brutal band In dark rage they sought one not long born, A solitary boy with READ MORE