Poetry

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The Christian’s walking stick;
Makes the enemy sick;
Like oxygen to the body.
It gives your spirit energy;
An aroma in God’s presence.
It’s Satan’s death sentence.
With it you gather strength;
And go from strength to strength.
Without it, you’re weak and sick, without power;
But With prayer you advance, soar and tower;
Above principalities and powers;
Brings joy to the sower.

Prayer: a two-way communication;
Paving the path to promotion;
God’s joy, Satan’s dread.
It's your armament putting you ahead;
Can be silent, without words, can be cold;
Better in a united fold;
Can be said anywhere, anytime;
Does not need to rhyme;
Can be in few words, can be in many words;
Better when based on the word;
Avails much when fuelled by faith;
Takes you from faith to faith.

Prayer, brings boundless peace;
Makes anxiety cease;
Results in mega breakthroughs;
Brings you in touch with the Faithful and True;
Sends fire to the enemy camp and
Brings you into your Promised Land.
To God’s Angels, it’s good, good, food;
Puts you and them in good mood;
Do it without ceasing,
And you’ll keep increasing.
Bridges the the gap
Prevents many a mishap.


©Fenny West

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