Poetry

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Wisdom cries aloud in the street,
In the store she raises her voice;
For the variety of meat,
Using wisdom to make her choice.

Up ahead on the noisy street,
She cries out to the city gate;
“How long do you stand on your feet,
You have stress to alleviate.”

“How long will you love being simple,
How long will the scoffers delight?”
“Fools treat knowledge like a pimple,
Hating wisdom just like insight.”

If you just turn at my reproof,
I will pour out my wrath to you;
I will make my words so uncouth,
Being difficult to construe.

For you are refusing to hear,
I stretch out my hand, you heed not;
Although all my words are sincere,
It is iniquities you sought.

You have ignored all my counsel,
So, I laugh at your final fate;
As your name will be marked cancel,
In the Book of Life at the gate.

I will mock you as terror strikes,
When terror strikes you like a storm;
Being haunted by your dislikes,
Without warning one early morn.

Whirlwinds of anguish and distress,
Such calamity comes upon;
Every time that you transgress,
Invading you at early dawn.

Then you try to call on the Lord,
But He will no longer respond;
Any requests will be ignored,
Since you no longer have a bond.

You did not choose to fear the Lord,
And decided to turn away;
Rather than be in one accord,
Temptation had led you astray.

Copyright © 2018 Richard Newton Sherrer

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