Poetry

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Wine can be a mocker,
And strong drink a brawler;
Will stray from a talker,
By a sexy caller.

The terror of a king,
Like a growling lion;
His anger will just bring,
The Lord’s wrath from Zion.

The honor for a man,
To keep aloof from strife;
In following God’s plan,
For a plentiful life.

The sluggard does not plow,
In the season of fall;
Thinking God would allow,
Abundant yield for all.

The purpose in the heart,
Reason will draw it out;
Be able to impart,
Without shedding doubt.

For most men will proclaim,
Of his own steadfast love;
His spirit burns the flame,
Desires from above.

The faithful and righteous,
Walk in integrity;
Being conscientious,
Of the humility.

On the throne of judgment,
That a king would sit on;
The wicked to torment,
With his eyes at the dawn.

God has made my heart pure,
And made clean from my sin;
His Spirit gave the cure,
For a newness within.

For the unequal weight,
From unequal measure;
Could be causing my fate,
For blocking my treasure.

Even a child knows,
By actions to conduct;
For purity he shows,
Truth not to obstruct.

Copyright © 2019 Richard Newton Sherrer

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