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Poems By Connie Bartlett
THE FLIGHT
Thou has put the mountains too high
for so long.....as dead was I
broken in spirit...as if out of THY MIND !
Yet, ever came back....knocking at THY door
hungry to be fed, 'n knew of this....YOU would not ignore
o' the sweet GOODNESS of the Merciful LORD !
In the Secret of THY PRESENCE........hide the weary soul
where by ....am protected against the foes
Poor 'n needy.......cry out to THEE
sorrow during the nite.....yet comes Joy in the morning
for all that wait ...pursuing Mercy
For THY NAMESAKE.....calling ones
as a turtle dove.....respond in a run
o' what sweet pleasures for any......that in YOU ,put their trust
THOU art everywhere.......one may turn
Thy handiwork of the...'n in the earth
THOU SPEAKS....'n all obeys, thru out the universe
YOU ride upon what ever you choose
even the fierce wind, 'n storms obey YOU
Can the clay refuse......I think not
fight as may, no strength can win against the Hand of GOD !
penned by a humbled child