by Isharah Johnson  (age 9)

There was a woman long ago;
Her name was Deborah as you know.

A prophetess who judged Israel
Beneath a tree; she did quite well.

She called Barak to go to war.
Ten thousand men would go before.

“Alas, I will not go alone,
Go with me, please, or I won’t go.”

Then Deborah said, “I’ll surely go,
But man the victory won’t know.”

They went to battle that good day,
But look!  The king has run away!

And then to Jael he ran to rest,
He got the worst but sought the best.

She gave him milk to make him sleep,
Then through his head a nail went deep.

The war was won by Israel then,
But the glory went to a woman.

Taken from Judges chapter four.

© Isharah (Johnson) Macon


by Isharah Johnson (age 10)

There was a place in Jesus’ time
A place they called the temple,
And all the ones who passed through it
Were asked to give a little.

Some were rich and blew their horns
To show their gifts in light,
But then there came a righteous one
Who gave her only mites.

Jesus saw them all you know,
And judged them one by one.
“Giving should not be seen,” he said,
“But in secret should be done.”

© Isharah (Johnson) Macon

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