Poetry

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I wait patiently for the Lord,
He had inclined and heard my cry;
From the pit of destruction poured,
Out of the miry bog I sigh.

He set my feet upon a rock.
That was making my steps secure;
Affirmed my goings as we talk,
Thanking Him being my Savior.

He gave me a new song of praise,
For many see and fear the Lord;
They put their trust in Him always,
Attempt to be in one accord.

Bless those who make the Lord their trust,
Who does not turn into the proud;
And don’t go astray for their lust,
Or proclaims a lie to a crowd.

O Lord my God, Your wondrous deeds,
You have multiplied of Your thought;
We are assure of our needs,
No one compares with as You sought.

If I would declare and speak them,
Yet they are more than can be told;
Still many others do condemn,
Being outdated and too old.

Copyright © 2025 Richard Newton Sherrer

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