HIS DRUM WAS HIS GIFT

HIS DRUM WAS HIS GIFT
To give he had nothing, this boy all alone,
Poor was he, nothing to own.
A gift for a king, a babe in a manger,
Something to offer this little stranger.
He searched and he asked the wise men of the land,
What shall I do, only a drum in my hand.
His drum was his gift, yes! this was it,
He’ll play, and play, they’ll watch as they sit.
They watched as he played, what a spectacular sight,
He banged on his drum under the stars of the night.
With tears in his eyes but a smile on his face,
His drum was his gift, it was Christmas born in this place.
Keith Garrett

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