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

Poems By Connie Bartlett