Poetry

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Blessed unto anyone,
Whose sinning is forgiven;
Their confession through the Son,
With faith to access Heaven.

Blessed unto any man,
That the Lord counts no evil;
There’s no deceit in his plan,
That ties him to the devil.

For when I had kept silent,
My bones had wasted away;
My groaning became violent,
Because I had gone astray.

God’s hand was heavy on me,
My strength dried up from the heat;
Because my iniquity,
I could not stand on my feet.

I confessed my transgression,
He forgave all of my sin;
His Spirit cleansed my passion,
And righteously discipline.

Everyone who is godly,
Offer a prayer at a time;
To be righteously holy,
In confessing of their crime.

So, the rush of great waters,
They shall not be coming near;
For your sons and daughters,
And shall righteously revere.

The Lord is my hiding place,
He preserves me from trouble;
For as His mercy and grace,
Delivers me from the rubble.

Copyright © 2026 Richard Newton Sherrer

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