POET'S CORNER #4

The Poet's Corner #3

Poems to Warm the Heart!

A PRAYER FOR THOSE WHO LIVE ALONE (author unknown) I live alone, dear Lord, Stay by my side, In all my daily needs, Be Thou my guide. Grant me good health, For that indeed, I pray, To carry on my work From day to day. Keep pure my mind, My thoughts, my every deed, Let me be kind, unselfish In my neighbor's need. Spare me from fire, from flood, Malicious tongues, From thieves, from fear, And evil ones. If sickness or an accident befall, Then humbly, Lord, I pray, Hear Thou my call. And when I'm feeling low, Or in despair, Lift up my heart, And help me in my prayer. I live alone, dear Lord, Yet have no fear, Because I feel Your Presence Ever near. Amen. ...... HOW HIGH by J. Osswald How high is this mountain Lord, how high must I climb And on the other side, what is it I'll find The distance ahead seems such a great length I'm not really sure if I have the strength Forgive me for questioning, but I need to know Is this really the direction that you want me to go? I heard no response to the questions I asked And the mountain ahead seemed such a great task I was tired and weary, had tried my best But the load was too heavy, so I sat down to rest As I sat for a while under the shade of a tree The answers I was seeking came to me. The road I had been traveling was no mistake This was the direction he meant me to take How high is the mountain, I need not know If he leads me there, then I must go And wherever it takes me, I'll not ask why With God at my side, no mountain's too high. ...... THE LITTLE BLACK DOG by Elizabeth Gardner Reynolds I wonder if Christ had a little black dog, All curly and woolly like mine; With two silky ears and a nose round and wet, And two eyes, brown and tender, that shine. I'm sure if He had, that little black dog Knew right from the first He was God; That he needed no proof that Christ was divine, But just worshipped the ground that He trod. I'm afraid that He hadn't because I have read How He prayed in the garden alone; For all of His friends and disciples had fled, Even Peter, the one called a stone. And, oh, I am sure that little black dog, With a heart so tender and warm, Would never have left Him to suffer alone, But creeping right under His arm .... Would have licked those dear fingers, in agony clasped; And counting all favors but loss, When they took Him away would have trotted behind, And followed Him quite to the Cross! ...... ..................... GOT TO SAY THIS 3RD POEM BREAKS ME UP 😓          Keith Hunt To be continued