Take It From The Stone
As golden light beams sprayed the dawn,
and early birds sang Nature’s song,
I stumbled upon this rock, the one
so kingly crowned by our great sun.
Ancient and royal, stood the stone,
down through The Ages, sinking alone.
My arms reached out ~ my hands felt glory.
Right then I heard him tell his story.
A lady arose from the lake
to give me a sword I could not forsake
until a new King would arise
for only He could take the prize.
Many a man struggled here
but only one showed no fear.
A boy, no less, took a try
when no one else was standing by.
Taking a grip with two small hands
planting his feet on Royal lands
gently he tugged, so easily
I could feel his love melting in me.
My solid core then vaporized
and Arthur’s face showed his surprise!
He thrust it to the sky and beamed
“Thank you, God! for making me King!”
* * *
When out came the sword, I wept
for the glorious gift I so long kept.
No longer was I a stone in need
and only rocks that roll feel free.