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Vart finns Allah? Vart finns han ej?

He was just a little boy,
On a week’s first day.
Wandering home from Islamic school,
And dawdling on the way.

He scuffed his shoes in to the grass;
He even found a caterpillar.
He found a fluffy milkweed pod,
And blew out all the ‘filler.’

A bird’s nest in a tree overhead,
So wisely placed up so high.
Was just another wonder,
That caught his eager eye.

A neighbor watched his zig zag course,
And hailed him from the lawn;
Asked him where he’d been that day
And what was going on.

‘I’ve been to Islamic School ,’
He said and turned a piece of sod.
He picked up a wiggly worm replying,
‘I’ve learned a lot about Allah.’

‘M’m very fine way,’ the neighbor said,
‘for a boy to spend his time.’
‘If you’ll tell me where Allah is,
I’ll give you a brand new dime.’

Quick as a flash the answer came!
Nor were his accents faint.
‘I’ll give you a dollar, Mister,
If you can tell me where Allah ain’t.’


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