A Rough Draft

I know that I said in my last post's comment that I don't enjoy writing poetry... However, after spending the last ... oh 7 or 8 hours on this poem, I've come to the conclusion that it can be enjoyable. Something I've learned from a book I've been reading lately is that when you write, write for yourself. Your biggest reward in writing isn't what others think, good or bad, but what you yourself think of it. This poem, I really like. I hope you do as well:)

(Criticism and thoughts gladly accepted.... IF you're not anonymous!)

“Convert’s Song”


Damp the air
With golden globes of summer’s soft sun rays,
Clutching crucifix on breast
The man cried convert’s song


Holding my conch I called
The whale
To open wide
His mouth,
To take me, save me
Belly deep-
Redeem my solemn soul.


But then I saw another sight
A beauty tempting me
Soft white upon the shore, the lace-
Mistress’ sheer gown


I nearly turned away from truth,
My back to ward the sun,
Yet reason came within the wind,
My mind then wondered again.


Once more I looked upon that man
Mysterious and strange was he,
Yet somehow I knew he held the truth
A solution, this could be.


“Dear man,” I called
My heart raced quick
“What is this song you sing?”
With trepidation in my step,
I tread to hear his cause.


A smile danced upon his lips,
Resounding words he spoke,
Carried unto my spirit’s core,
They pierced my fragile heart.


He told me how to rid my soul
Of all my life long pains
He said I could have peace in Christ
And eternities pure and full.


With resolve, I bowed my head
I never questioned him,
I was assured it was the way-
The way that I must go.


And now I cry a grateful tune,
Of my redeemer’s love,
That joy I shall forever sing
That hymn called Convert’s Song.

(May 5, 2008)