Poetry's my heart on paper;
It reveals my soul.
Is it sheer reality or
Simply playing a role?
Could be joy or even sadness,
One's sickness or health,
A blessing or perhaps a curse,
One's poverty or wealth.
For some it's scary as can be,
A few want peace and calm,
Sadly some want horror and gore,
Others a soothing balm.
But I try to be silent to
Hear God's Holy Spirit,
It tells me what to write but I
Must be still to hear it.
I want to write what God can use
To glorify His name,
As others read it may they find
They'll never be the same.
My purpose is lifting spirits
For those who're feeling blue,
I'll let the Lord use what I write
As only He can do.
There's only one reason to write
A poem or a story,
That's to make the Savior smile and
Give Him all the glory.
My poems are an overflow
Of the joy within my heart,
So when I pick up my pen
That's where I like to start.
If my poem's a blessing to
Someone along my way,
Please, give the praises to the Lord,
Is all that I can say.
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