Poetry

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I cry out to the Lord,
For to open His ears;
So I am not ignored,
Because of having fears.

Let the Lord hear my prayer,
As sweet-smelling incense;
Be enabled to share,
In His awesome presence.

The lifting of my hands,
Showing my sacrifice;
Accepting His commands,
No other can entice.

At my mouth set a guard,
Watch the door of my tongue;
So wrongful words be barred,
And never to be flung.

Let only God persuade,
And avoid the devil;
Letting him not invade,
In me with his evil.

A righteous man may hit,
Change me out of kindness;
But I cause not a fit,
For being so mindless.

When their judges are gone,
Will be when I am heard;
A sweet sound at the dawn,
In repeating the Word.

I plant bones in the grave,
As the plows break the ground;
Repeating as to save,
Saying the sacred sound.

My eyes look up to Him,
So I can take refuge;
Filled with joy not grim,
Like rain as a deluge.

Keep Satan and his traps,
Far away from my path;
For avoiding mishaps,
So I am spared the wrath.

Copyright © 2016 Richard Newton Sherrer

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