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Staid Puss

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There are those that call me donkey

And deride my comic shape.

There are those that call me ass

And say I'm ugly and misshape,

Being neither horse, nor pony

Fleet of foot or sleek of hide.

Yet, ask those that call me donkey

Why HE chose me to ride?

There are those that call me donkey

And mock my length of ear.

There are those that call me ass

Found wanting, when a certain time was near.

How many of my tormentors

Wished they'd borne Christ the Son of God.

How many rushed to follow me

As on the palm strewn path I trod?

I had carried Him as an infant

Newly born, from Bethlehem,

Escaping from the fate they'd planned

In the ensuing, bleak, mayhem.

There are those that call me a stupid ass

And who are always ready to deride

Will, when called to meet their Maker

Find me a donkey, standing by His side.

 

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