Bitter Sweet
The scroll had been eaten,
musta' been sweeten'd.
It went down so good,
not like
I thought
it would.
gone was my smile.
And in it's place
a frown graced my face.
just what did I sup?
That scroll,
to be sure.
Bitter bubbles
need a cure.
His divine suggestion
(for spiritual indigestion) -
"Speak words about Me,
how I love'm,
decree.
Here's the relief
for your bottled grief.
Prophesy a while,
to get back your smile.
My words had their toll.
But the scroll was blank
as it went down your tank.
of content specific
I fueled you up
with spontaneous prolific.
I'm filling you up
to spout
off-the-cuff.
and if that's not enough -
You could chirp out a song
to my forest birds
They'd get the message,
through My chirpy words."
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