Palm Sunday and Peter

Will I lay my cloak before you in the thrill of morning ride;
or pull it tighter round me, in chilled shadows fireside?
Will my sword flash bright in battle, as I bravely shout your fame
or will my words come quick and angry, standing by the fire’s flame?
Your healing words will always seek out my soul to keep;
after restless nights of fishing, when my troubled heart yearned sleep,
Your love always restores me, as you speak, “go , feed my sheep”!