Poetry

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If only my words that are to be composed,
Into poetry that they may be transposed;
With an iron pen and lead cut into stone,
The beauty of our Lord to let it be known.

He who is ready to adopt my cause lives,
In time that he understands the motives;
When without this flesh I will go see God,
Whence I shall be able to honor and laud.

And I shall see my broken heart of desire,
That was burning within the insidious fire;
I will accept punishment for all of my sin,
That has been clearly rooted deep within.

I respect and fear the wrath of the sword,
Be delivered as punishment by my Lord;
And certain of a fair and impartial judge,
For what I deserve and will not begrudge.

For I know that the Lord my God is just,
In disciplining me for my greed and lust;
Since I was not following all of the Laws,
And suffer the consequences for my flaws.

Richard Newton Sherrer

Copyright 2005 Richard Newton Sherrer

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