Joel Okoh
Amidst the many stares, she made her way
Ignoring the mocking sneers, and at the master's feet now lay
She's a prostitute, He heard them say
Why doesn't He send her away
She heard them too, but to them did she no attention pay
And while they continued to watch
His feet with her tears did she wash
Her kisses on his feet were lush
She didn't care who stood to watch
And then wiping his feet with her hair's soft touch
Anointing them with ointment so costly and precious
They that watched judged her
Why waste a perfect precious box of alabaster
Could not it have been sold
And the money given to them that as poor in the fold
And then finally he spoke
For the first time that night his silence he broke
Let her be as she pours her love on me
For the poor shall ye always have but soon ye shall not have me
And so lord much like that woman I cone
Bearing in me worship befitting a saviour
For he paid all I owed, not just some
Therefore his service is now forever my pleasure
And while you stare and mock
I'll continue to worship him by doing his work
For what greater gift than I give
To the one who died for me, but for him live!!
