The Shepherd and the Gittite

In the Valley of Elah, three thousand years past,

In the scorch of summer, on plains dry and vast,

Two great forces assembled for war,

The Philistine force and the force of the Lord.

Out of the former comes a man of some girth,

Whose footsteps thundered and rattled the earth.

His voice through the armor echoed and boomed,

"Who among you will come meet your doom?"

At first there was silence and the Gittite laughed,

But a voice broke through the silence at last.

"Let no one lose heart on account of this man,

For I, your servant, will fight for my land."

And out of the camp rose a hero of Heaven,

A shepherd, a boy, the youngest of seven.

He met the beast who sends shivers and shocks

With naught but a sling and a bag of rocks.

The giant then thundered in laughter again,

"So this is your hero? The best of your men?

This man is a boy! He's wearing no steel!

Bring him to me and I'll make him a meal."

And so the shepherd said:

"Before the sun sets I'll have your head in my hand,

And I'll feed your flesh to the beasts of the land.

"You come against me with a shield and a sword,

But I, against you, in the name of the Lord."

With those words the showdown began.

The giant approached, scepter in hand.

The boy reached into his bag of rocks

And carefully loaded his leather sling shot.

The shepherd circled his sling with masterful flair,

And launched that stone into the air.

The giant then buckled then bellowed then bowed.

'Twas as though God Himself had stricken his brow.

The skull of the beast had been caved and crushed.

He thundered the earth and scattered the dust.

The boy went over to examine his head.

The shepherd had triumphed. The Gittite was dead.