Poem March 12, 1966 Issue

DISCIPLESHIP

Pansy O. Alexander

The Master spoke,
He questioned thrice, "Thou lovest me?"
"Thou knowest," Peter said,
"That I love thee."

The Master's words
Were kind, "be thou the sheltering rock,
Lead where green pastures lie,
Tend well my flock."

O dreaming one,
Awake! Cast off' mesmeric sleep.
His holy voice repeats,
"Feed.... Feed my sheep."

Pansy O. Alexander

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Real Freedom versus Phony Freedom
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