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I would like to dedicate this poem to people who work to be an example in the marketplace, business, and the community. It’s not always easy, but you really are the salt of the earth and a city on a hill, that cannot be hidden. Thanks!

 

There once was a man on a hill

Who had everything but still,

His countenance was sad,

He forgot what he had,

So he sat on the hill until.

 

He looked at the valley below

And thought, “That’s where I will go.”

The grass is green,

There’s more than I’ve seen,

That’s the place for me, I know.

 

So he stood up to go and see

If the people were as friendly as he,

But they shoved him away,

And wouldn’t let him stay,

And said, “This land belongs to me.”

 

Again, the man on the hill was sad.

He really didn’t know what he had,

Until a man passing by

Looked him straight in the eye

And said, “That land belongs to your dad.”

 

The man on the hill was amazed.

All of this time I’ve been dazed.

That land is mine

From my family line

It’s where my grandfather was raised.

 

But the people down there are mean.

Like nothing that I’ve ever seen.

They like to defy,

They always deny,

They’re big. They’re fast. They’re lean.

 

But that land down there, it’s mine.

It belongs in my family line.

I don’t care what they say,

I will go there today,

You see, it’s God’s design.

 

So he thought, he planned, he prayed.

The price was already paid.

He knew he would win

So he tried it again

And went down to the valley and stayed.

 

This time he didn’t say a word.

He just listened to all that he heard.

He learned their ways,

He found work that pays,

And did it like a gentle bird.

 

He started a business one day.

Some people questioned his way.

He bartered, he traded

Some thought he was jaded,

But the business was starting to pay.

 

They were grateful for the example he made.

The employees were getting paid.

His business grew stronger,

He was a stranger no longer,

And they were all glad that he stayed.

 

Now the man who was on the hill

Owns the land and shares it at will.

He filled his cup,

He powered up,

And on the land he placed his seal.

 

This land is mine

From my family line.

It belongs to my dad who is near.

I’m willing to share with those who care

So about Him they too will hear.

 

 

Copyright 2012, Rhonda Y. Williams

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