Of Rhyme

Chesterton wrote of the glory of rhyme.
Nothing short, he says, of a hint of divine.
It is everyman’s way to inspire to climb
ever closer to the sublime.

His century’s flaw
was the icy freeze
of soul into straw
and long roads to ill and disease.

But it is not hard if you try
to catch God’s eye.
Simply ask,
and light is your task.

Just ask for words
And your voice will be heard;
your hand will be guided by Spirit unbridled.

God’s wish is to draw close,
in even small dose.
That a taste of His love
alights as a dove.

The donkey brays but does not waver
from the path and knows of God’s favor.
He carries the meek and humble
but does not stumble.

A master scrivener you need not be,
to speak of one majestic as He.
Seek and find,
and awake no longer blind.

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