Poetry

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In the Lord I take refuge,
How can you say to my soul;
Flee like a bird and refuse,
Your mountain from God’s control.

For the wicked bent their bow,
Prepared to shoot in the dark;
They have fitted their arrow,
Aimed at the just to embark.

If foundations are destroyed,
Then what can the righteous do;
Elsewhere they can be deployed,
Where else then can they pursue.

The Lord is in His temple,
The Lord’s throne is in Heaven;
His eyes sees all His people,
Testing what He has given.

He tests the children of man,
And hates who loves violence;
The wicked He hates who plan,
Mayhem filled with fraudulence.

Let God rain fire on them,
Sulfur and a scorching wind;
Their lives that He will condemn,
The tempest that they have sinned.

For the Lord has been righteous,
And He loves the righteous deeds;
The upright shall seek justice,
His countenance gives their needs.

Copyright © 2026 Richard Newton Sherrer

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