Poetry

---

The Mount of Olives atop the hill
Across the Kidron valley
Gethsemane stands tall in glory
A favorite haunt of my Lord.

The garden of Olives a regular place
The Lord had oft visited before
His secluded space of rest and prayer
A meeting spot between the Father and Him.

Tonight, the garden is not the same
Silhouetted trees in melancholy shade
The Rock of Agony takes over the scene
A feeling of fore brood spreads all over.

The Lord is agonizing in pain
Drops of blood fall from His brow
His soul is in extreme sorrow
Heart wrenched to the point of death.

The disciples sleep a little further on
Unable to watch and pray along with Him
Their eyes so heavy in a sleep so deep
They fail to see the hour of agony.

The atmosphere changes out of the blue
Alarm takes over in the air
The reign of darkness has commenced
The trees shiver with the might of distress.

The Olive garden takes on a sinister side
Enemies approach flashing torch and light
They come to take the Master away
Bind him in iron chains and false say.

O Gethsemane! The witness of that night
Why did the hour of betrayal come to pass?
To the innocent one with no guilt
The Chosen One who came from above.

The garden of Olives will smile no more
Gethsemane, forever sorrowed in grief!
To miss the presence of the betrayed One
Who knelt within its very embrace.

Maria Franco

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE