Poetry is not my comfort zone. In fact, I don’t get a lot of poems; the meanings escape me. Not surprisingly, my favorite kinds of poems are ones that tell a story like “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes, which came to my attention via Anne Shirley (of Green Gables). Whenever I read poetry, I’m always looking for the rhythm and rhyme. The beat speaks to my music-loving soul.

Several years ago I wrote a poem in response to a poetry contest that was advertised in our local paper. It’s definitely not prize-winning, but it says a lot about where I find my strength and goes quite well with my word for the year.

 

Peace, Be Still

The storm around the ship raged,

Every man aboard afraid.

Only by Him could they be saved,

So He raised His hands and proclaimed,

“Peace! Be Still!”

When loneliness and fears

Mingle together with my tears,

In the darkness His voice appears,

Gently guiding throughout my years,

“Peace, be still.”

And when my time on earth is through,

Nothing left for me to do,

I will bid this world adieu,

As He calls to me anew,

“Peace, be still.”

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