The Hills Have Their Assigned Seats
By Frederick Blanchard
The hills have their assigned seats,
As do the valleys and plains below,
Even the oceans and seas alike,
Are positioned underneath sky’s plateau.
Nestled between the sun and moon,
Is this, our spectacular dwelling place,
Unlike any other in the known galaxy,
It’s provisioned for man by Eternal’s grace.
Stars overhead sit in the Lord’s auditorium,
That surrounds this wonderful blue sphere,
Blinking in dismay through each night hour,
Of the escalation of war and the racketeer.
The end of the rainbow draws ever near,
Storms subside as the Thresher readies His swing,
To gather the moon, stars and sun into one,
As trumpets and angels let their anthems ring.