Comments on: A Baby’s Prayer – Kathy Troccoli http://lordcalls.com/devotional-videos/a-babys-prayer-kathy-troccoli Jesus has called each one of us to be part of his divine plans. Our lives are precious in the eyes of God. Thu, 20 Oct 2011 15:30:03 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.2.1 By: Joseph Donnelly http://lordcalls.com/devotional-videos/a-babys-prayer-kathy-troccoli/comment-page-1#comment-2808 Joseph Donnelly Tue, 22 Feb 2011 09:42:32 +0000 http://lordcalls.com/?p=771#comment-2808 My wife Maria and I have brought up seven children. The oldest is now 57 years. We never had any trouble with them and have enjoyed every minute with them. We are very much against Abortion in every form. For that reason I wrote this wee poem. I believe it shows what many people consider Murder on helpless babies. Joe Donnelly Our unborn Dead Conceived to be murdered, our unborn dead, Eyes unable to see their plight, Little souls for whom His Dear Heart bled, Now wander in a Heavenly Light. Little bodies carved with heathen skill, Their blood flows into unknown canals, Nerves still protesting, twitching still, Never to be named in the Earth's Annals. Millions of Angels, made here on Earth, Millions of voices in a Heavenly Choir, Praise the Lord who gave them birth, And sing about His Majestic Power. While here below, an unwanted soul, Is placed in a heedless surgeons hand, A bloody scalpel takes it's toll, And severs silent, the maternal band. Another Angel soars on high, Brings a prayer from a planet of heavenly blue, From the next whose end is nigh, Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. Joe Donnelly, Belfast, 2002 My wife Maria and I have brought up seven children. The oldest is now 57 years. We never had any trouble with them and have enjoyed every minute with them. We are very much against Abortion in every form. For that reason I wrote this wee poem. I believe it shows what many people consider Murder on helpless babies.
Joe Donnelly

Our unborn Dead

Conceived to be murdered, our unborn dead,
Eyes unable to see their plight,
Little souls for whom His Dear Heart bled,
Now wander in a Heavenly Light.

Little bodies carved with heathen skill,
Their blood flows into unknown canals,
Nerves still protesting, twitching still,
Never to be named in the Earth’s Annals.

Millions of Angels, made here on Earth,
Millions of voices in a Heavenly Choir,
Praise the Lord who gave them birth,
And sing about His Majestic Power.

While here below, an unwanted soul,
Is placed in a heedless surgeons hand,
A bloody scalpel takes it’s toll,
And severs silent, the maternal band.

Another Angel soars on high,
Brings a prayer from a planet of heavenly blue,
From the next whose end is nigh,
Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.

Joe Donnelly, Belfast, 2002

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