Moonlight fingered grass

 Dear Lord, as I traverse the valley of the shadow of the deaf 

and fear the ills I cannot see.

You do carry me beyond the sandless shores to waters remiss of death.

The saltless seas sprinkled with the savour of your children,

Who do in time concede to wisdom and yield by the pastures.

The console that supercedes our playful wiles.

Though we dance in red ribbon 

and you control our armies, I struggle to be astute.

This is my supplication.

Selah

 

 

Reviews

[Jason Henry]

i'll call this Psalm 151...

[Soapbox]

I agree! Completely agree! Selah!!!

[Jonhoi Vaughn]

You are like the bad a*s of poetry. Secret: You get paid for poetry. Publish. In the name of Jesus publish d****t!