You were a son of Zebedee and Salome,
And brother of John the Apostle,
Though your fishing boat was very reliable,
It was definitely nothing colossal;
Were you a fiery fisherman from Galilee?
For Jesus called you a son of thunder,
If so, then did your anger flare in the boat
When your brother committed a blunder?
You saw Jesus rise at the Ascension,
And it stirred in you a most pious desire,
Then within your breast burned a glorious zeal
Which brightly glowed like a holy fire;
But King Herod Agrippa persecuted Christians,
And he just wanted them to go away,
He thought that killing a respected apostle
Would make them cease to pray.
It’s very true that King Herod seemed
Like the most vile and pernicious slug,
He was very much like his grandpa,
Who killed the holy innocents like a thug;
His wretched grandfather was selfish,
The very violent Herod the Great,
Who savagely slaughtered the babes of
Bethlehem in his beastly ire and hate.
Being a member of Jesus’ inner circle,
You had a target on your back,
The giant executioner grunted, as he
Chopped off your head with a whack;
You became the first apostolic martyr,
Way back in the year A.D. forty-four,
But Jesus waited with a beaming smile,
As He opened that Heavenly door.