Your comments about this column are welcome ~ e-mail Frank at
founded 2004 by ron cruger
A place for intelligent writers
by Frank Shortt
A place for intelligent readers
2019 Spectator Ron - The Spectator All Rights Reserved
Christ once died upon a tree
For vile sinners such as we
Coming forth within three days
He left a damp, empty grave.
When he arose,
as he said,
We, too, came forth from the dead
We were in Him from before
When sons of God sang for joy!
He sent to us words of Truth
To live thereby, save and sooth
Where's the Resurrection now?
In those to Him who humbly bow.
Manifesting Christ's great star
ring both near and far
Once again he lives today
In fleshly bodies made of clay.