Poetry

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I hear as my body trembles,
My lips quiver at the sound;
While my stomach rumbles,
My humbleness has been found.

My bones in my legs feel weak,
Yet I will wait quietly;
For the day trouble may seek,
Invading illicitly.

The fig tree should not blossom,
Nor fruit should be on the vine;
The olives may fail in autumn,
But the Lord is still Divine.

I will rejoice in the Lord,
And joy in my salvation;
For I is loved and adored,
Faith built on His foundation.

For the Lord God is my strength,
He makes my feet like the deer;
Preserved to any length,
Since I honor and revere.

Copyright © 2025 Richard Newton Sherrer

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