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By Rich Tassinari
Other Poems by Rich Tassinari

      Susanna in the Garden

Along the garden path she strolls,
As beautiful a flower
As any bud or blossomed rose
In sunlight or in shower.

Like shining light where she proceeds
Is He Who shows the Way,
His pureness is the light that leads,
She follows every day.

Like showers sent to quench her thirst
Are words from Him above,
She cultivates her soul on earth
Through those who spread His love.

The beauty of this flower grows
Where care has taken hold,
On earth where heaven’s sower sows,
Susanna’s blooms unfold.


        Two Judges in the Garden

Both weeds and flowers grow the same
And share the fertile soil,
The garden has one earth, one name,
Where good and evil toil.

Among the blooms, two judges go,
And sink their deadly roots,
They spread their weeds, more seeds they sow
To bear their evil fruits.

They steal the water of His words,
Corrupt the heaven’s light
To poison flowers, bees, and birds,
Turn buds and blooms to blight.

These two have come not to admire,
Nor smell the sweet perfume
Nor thank the garden’s selfless sire,
But, pluck Susanna’s bloom.

When she denies their overture,
They threaten with a lie,
And when with lies, they fail to lure,
They sentence her to die.


            Daniel Intervenes

The young lad Daniel’s heart cries out,
What moves his spirit so
To take the risk, to charge and doubt
What judges claim to know?

He hears and sees Susanna’s plea
While she is led to death,
A savior picked by God is he
So justice breathes its breath.

He’s not persuaded by the cloak
Of judge they hide behind,
He bears the holy lighter yoke
Of truth to seek and find.

He separates the liars two,
Two stories then emerged
Of where the judges claim they knew
Two sinful souls converged.

The garden’s beauty is restored,
And evil’s underground,
Yet, it will never be ignored,
And saviors will be found.

 Rich Tassinari 1/28/15

 From the story of Susanna in the Apocrypha.

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Submitted: Thursday, January 29, 2015

Last Updated: Thursday, January 29, 2015

About the Poet
Husband, father, grandfather, and each title is my joy. As a youth, poetry was a means to express the inexpressable. I was attracted to (and still am) the beauty and brevity of verse. All flows out from God, and like a proper prayer, can flow back.

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