I’ve known a lot of kings and queens;
Their stories will be read
When all the books are opened
And there’s crowns upon each head.
Two stories shall not be alike.
At some a heart will melt.
Still others will bring little joy,
But much the sorrow felt.
It will be learned that one was brave -
A great surprise to many,
While another cowered before the sword -
A shock to all and any.
The devotion of His chosen queens -
Was it ever known to falter?
But when scrutinized by blazing eyes,
Was all upon the altar?
Those mighty kings, those valiant hearts,
Their names had won renown;
Acclaimed for all their wondrous feats,
But did they tear the high place down?
There was one, though full of faith,
He looked not to others’ needs.
One scarcely saw the unrevealed,
Still abounded in good deeds.
There was a woman crimped by fears
But she comforted the broken,
And when she bore another’s cross
Was not an ill word spoken.
Some displayed the wrath of man,
Yet they loved that which was right.
Others’ hearts spawned gentleness,
But they could seldom rouse their might.
There was a man whose wisdom lacked
But he was sinless as a child.
Another waxed wise beyond compare
But many he beguiled.
The vast array of kings and queens,
In number like the oceans’ sand;
The strong, the weak, the in between,
A tapestry so grand.
When all that’s written is read of Him
There’ll be not the ideal story.
Will be His own good pleasure still
To heap upon them glory.
The books are going to open,
And He’ll know their inner pleadings,
In the Day when men and angels come
To hear the holy readings.
-J. Pecoraro
