Poetry

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O Lord, You are my God,
I exalt You in praise;
As I honor and laud,
Extol Your fame always.

Such remarkable things,
Accomplished long ago;
As decreed what it brings,
Making the blessings flow.

The city in a heap,
Made it into rubble;
While foreigners sleep,
Defiant to grumble.

Because they had no guilt,
Their fortress made ruins;
Never to be rebuilt,
Since each one of them sins.

So, of a strong nation,
Will extol You each day;
Pleading for salvation,
As we trust and obey.

Powerful nations fear,
Protector for the poor;
Calming those who revere,
The innocent and pure.

A shelter from the storm,
A shading from the heat;
The breath that make things norm,
As foes You will defeat.

Like heat in a dry land,
You humble the boasting;
As a shadow on sand,
The cloud stops my roasting.

The Lord commands armies,
Hosting us for a feast;
Against the blasphemies,
Opposing the chief priest.

A feast with wine and meat,
Tender meat and choice wine;
Honey that makes it sweet,
For the faithful to dine.

You wipe away the tears,
Remove our disgrace;
Able to calm the fears,
As we look at Your face.

Copyright © 2018 Richard Newton Sherrer

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