In the theater of my mind the scene is vividly clear
Saintly reflection and many a tear
A dark figure entering a lamp lit room with head bowed low
What is her kind doing here? Her judges wanted to know.
She knelt before the Lord,
Offering a gift no earthly riches could afford.
The love of a forgiven heart poured
upon the feet of her Master.
Her praise freely flowing from her box of alabaster.
Onlookers peered down their noses with ridicule and shame,
as she continued to bless his name.
O’ precious Mary the lesson we must learn,
for one day it will be our turn.
To press past the mocking worldly throng.
Kevin W. Bounds 