Finis Coronat Opus

                                         Horizon’s edge drowns out the sun As slow tide ebbs and flows,   And laps upon the shore so brown As daylight westward goes. The rushing sound of waters deep Stirs up my soul in thought; How swiftly Time escapes our reach And soon, alas, is nought. Oh! use it well, these years you have, For long they only seem; Yet swift away on evening wave   May drift away your dream. Photo of sunset in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina.

The golden sun casts forth its rays  O’er summer fields of green; In early morning fog there sing  The sparrows, yet unseen. As westward wends the glowing sphere,  Dark clouds now show themselves The light’ning cracks, the thunder peals  And torrents flood the dells. At end of day, when storm is gone,  The sparrows flit to nest; The grassland thrives ‘til day is done  When nature finds its rest.

Subject my will to Thine:  Your Word shall be my guide. Cause me to worship Thee,  And bid the old man flee. You called me out of sin (Th’eternal curse of men) To serve You evermore On earth, and Heaven’s shore. Make my mind seek Your face, All fear and doubt erase; Thou art my Risen King, I praise and glory sing. Cast out my hidden gods; You only shall I hold. Grant mercy, Lord, within, And turn my heart from sin. Let my joy be in Thee, No longer serving “me”,  Your grace be my refrain In pleasure and in pain. Your glory has no end, Your people You have sent Proclaiming evermore Your mercy from of yore. O! this resounding song Is powerful and strong; Lord, let your glory be From end of earth to sea! And when my time is done I’ll see Thy Kingdom come. My will shall then be free, Full resting, Lord, in Thee. Originally written April 2018

A tremor stirs the sea Amid the darkening skies: The waters roil and seethe Along distant shorelines. In midst of dire storm A small craft bobs along The surface of the ocean All tumult to defy. Hardy, battered oars Plunge headlong through the foam As towering surf collides With creaking oaken hull. Will such small craft remain When storm and wind subside? Or shall the ship and crew On ocean's floor reside? This was the first poem I ever posted on a writing forum, over 3 years ago. I recall experimenting with different phrases, figuring how I wanted the mind to paint pictures, what I wanted the words to convey, and I was surprised I liked the finished product (clearly I still needed to improve my skills with metering, alas). The mind is a powerful animator, and one of my aims in writing is to help unlock that potential and communicate meaning to the reader.