I composed this biblically based sonnet about love, courtship, marriage and children one day while meditating on the meaning of borrowedarrow.com.

When our children were born, we dedicated each of them to the Lord and in turn rededicated our lives afresh to training up our children in the way they should go. You never truly know how difficult it is to lend your children back to the Lord until they are no longer under your watch care. I can honestly say, in retrospect, you can never go wrong by placing them in the hand of the Mighty to launch.

The Heart of the Fletcher’s Wife

The young man swiftly swept her off her feet. 
Lusting, pining, longing
… Falling … falling … falling for each other.
Consumed by the love,
They shared for one another.

His bride Was Wanted, Wooed and Wed.

The house of the fletcher had lain long vacant.
Hushed, calm, serene
… Wisp … wisp … whispering of the air.
Even tiny rodent’s feet,
Echoed in the stillness that lay there.

These were Quiet, Quaint little Quarters.

The silence was broken by the cheerful sound of their arrival.
Click, clack, clanking
… Creak … creak … creaking of the door.
Crossing the threshold,
He stood her upright on the floor.

The two were Babbling, Boisterous and Bright.

The embers in the fireplace soon lit up the room.
Pssst! pop, snapping
… Crack … crack … cracking in the hearth.
The wafting scent of cedar,
Underscored their mirth.

There was a certain Tranquility in The Tiny Toasting Tinders.

The blaze of the fire revealed the parcel in the corner.
Gleaming, glimmering, flickering
… Dancing … dancing … dancing in the light.
A wedding gift from the Mighty;
Delivered just that night.

The gift left them Jubilant, Joyous and Jolly.

The lad fetched the package and placed it there before them.
Peeling, tearing, pulling
… Rip … rip … ripping at the paper.
The Mighty had looked well upon them,
And blessed both with His favor.

The newlyweds were Overcome, Overwhelmed and Overjoyed.

They stood gazing at its contents strewn about the table. 
Observing, surveying, inspecting
… gaping … gaping … gaping at their spoil.
Theirs was a labor of love,
And these were the tools with which they’d toil.

They were Emerging, Embarking, and soon to be Established.

Then the Mighty came a knocking at the door.
Bumping, thudding, tapping
… Rap … rap … rapping at the door.
He stood silently waiting;
Nothing more.

The Keen, Kind King had come to call.

The fellow’s heart leapt within him.
Bounding, springing, hopping
… Dashing … dashing … dashing for the door.
He stepped so high,
His feet barely hit the floor.

The two Graciously Greeted their Guest.

There was no pretense in their salutation. 
Hailing, clutching, embracing
…Bursting … bursting … bursting forth in praise.
They would forever be His stewards,
And serve Him all their days.

He was their Redeemer; He Reconciled and He Repaired.

He had bought them back from their adversary.
Withered, faded, dying
… Wading … wading … wading in the mire.
He set their feet on solid ground,
And snatched them from the fire.

Each of them was Unshackled, Unfettered and Unrestrained.

They were now safe within the walls of His kingdom. 
Living, breathing, thriving
… Growing … growing … growing in His grace.
He called them by a new name,
And their debts He did  erase.

This Holy Habitation was now their Home.

They accepted His invitation freely.
Concurring, consenting, agreeing
… Weaving … weaving … weaving words fitly spoken;
To create a threefold cord,
That could not be quickly broken.

These were His Faithful, Fruitful, Followers.

They were to be known now as the Fletchers.
Smelting, hewing, shaving
… Sanding … sanding … sanding down each bough.
A promise made by  Him,
Which in turn became their vow.

They had been Appointed by the king to Assemble Arrows.

Winter found its way to the Fletcher’s cabin.
Whistling, blowing, blustering
… Rat … rat …rattling of the panes. 
Still they were surrounded,
By a warmth they couldn’t explain.

Their Icy Isolation was Insulated with love.

The couple’s solitude was interrupted.
Clip, clap, clopping
… Puff … puff … puffing billows of white.
They saw the silhouette of a stranger,
Defined by the dawning light.

A Nameless, Noisy Nag aroused the Napping pair.

A horse and his rider were coming up the lane;
Cantering, galloping, prancing
… Trot … trot … trotting up the road.
Hauling twelve choice cedar branches, 
To the place where they abode.

The Limbs he carried were all Long and Lanky.

They were an heritage from the Mighty, for their travail and labour.
Lifting, lightening, boosting
… Stirring … stirring … stirring up their life.
Specifically prepared,
For this man and his wife.

The Fletchers set about on this venture with a Zany, Zealous Zest.

These cedar shafts would be the finest in all the land.
Peeling, carving, polishing
… Whittling … Whittling … Whittling down each knot,
Working feverishly to remove,
Each blemish and spot.

They had eXceptionally eXcellent, and eXtraordinary results.

The arrow heads were forged from iron. 
Banging, clanging, hammering
… Ring … ring … ringing out like chimes.
In an earthen furnace,
They were purified seven times.

The bolts were made from Molded, Molten, Metal.

Her man was called to battle against a cruel enemy.
Besieging, capturing, enslaving
… Warring … warring … warring on the boarder.
The task of completing the arrows,
Was then bestowed upon her.

She was Yoked with Years of Yearning.

She attached the fletching, sustaining the arrow like a song;
Whizzing – humming – hissing
… whirling … whirling … whirling above the ground.
Fighting against the forces,
That would work to pull it down.

Their Vivid, Vibrant Voices lifted her spirits above the fray.

Then the Mighty came a knocking at the door.
Thudding, bumping, tapping
… Rap … rap … rapping at the door.
He stood silently waiting,
Nothing more.

The King did not need to Push, Prod or Pry.

She pondered at the window with just the sound of her heart,
Throbbing, beating, pulsing
… Thump … thump … thumping in her breast.
His still small voice summoned her,
And she moved at His behest.

Her hand Sprang forward and Slowly, but ever so Slightly, opened the door.

His eyes pierced through to the joints and marrow of her bones.
Searching, perceiving, detecting,
… Pricking … pricking  … pricking  at her soul.
Every secret revealed:
Nothing left untold.

His gaze Disrupted, Divided and Discerned her hesitation.

She poured out her heart before Him.
Weeping, sobbing, crying
… Bending … Bending … bending to His will.
She would lend them to the Mighty,
His purpose to fulfill.

His love Constrained and then Compelled her to Commit.

One by one He slipped each arrow from the quiver she’d prepared.
Etching, engraving, inscribing
… Stamp … stamp … stamping each with His crest.
She was now yielded to His purpose,
Knowing He would do what’s best.


– Psalm 127:1-5 –

Except the LORD build the house, they labour in vain that build it: except the LORD keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain. It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows: for so he giveth his beloved sleep. Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.