Poetry

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I’d, humble, walk the narrow path
With Jesus, Savior, Lord,
And by His gift, I’ll praise Him with
The pen as my bronze sword.

I cannot sing or carry tunes;
No music can I play,
But God has blessed me with a gift,
A talent, so “they” say.

(And onward, Christian Soldier, write
As going off to war,
For God’s salvation set thee free
To walk His Golden Shore!)

I’d wield a humble poet’s pen,
Not out of duty’s call,
But out of Love and Faith in God;
He’s great, and I am small.

But I believe in altar’s prayer,
And promises He makes;
Perchance He’s chosen me to share
In spite of my mistakes.

Thus, if my pen and talent’s in
Accordance with His will,
I’ve want to share my God with all
In honing gift and skill.

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