I, too always wanted to be a talented artist, but our Heavenly Father had a different purpose for me.
GIFTS
I'd love to paint you a masterpiece, Yah
Of the beautty my grateful eyes see.
But an artistic hand as at easel I stand
Is a talent not given to me.
I'd like to sing you a love song, Yah,
But my voice is no longer young.
The sound of the notes rasping up from my throat
For the ears' sake are better unsung.
I'd like to weave you a tapestry, Yah
From yarn spun from silver and gold.
But I stare at the loom in frustration and gloom
It's clear that the fabric won't hold.
Gifts You have given to all, who would serve You,
To let the world know of Your glory.
I'm starting to see that the gift given me
Is to praise You in poem and in story.
So, with canvas of paper, a pen as my brush,
With words as the notes to my song,
Lines woven in place by the cords of Your grace,
I'll tell of You all my life long.
Amen
LuvsWesterns
Apr 19, 2018
Beautiful, fropo! Thanks!!
aussiesapphire
Apr 19, 2018
Great poem fropo and even greater content. Is this one of yours? Hugs
aknan
Apr 19, 2018
Excellent, fropo! Made me choke up a little from the truth you were saying.
micki
Apr 19, 2018
Me too elijah13, I can't draw a straight line with a ruler! Being able to paint a beautiful picture is truly a wonderful gift. I'm still trying to figure out what I'm good at...
fropo
Apr 20, 2018
Yes. It's one of mine. Thank you, all.
elijah13
Apr 20, 2018
You did a beautiful job. Thank you for sharing it.
dbnc2
Apr 21, 2018
Fropo
thank you
that was great
rahrah1820
Jul 27, 2018
Thank you for sharing your heart's gift with us. It's beautiful.
As you see not all art takes visual form but colors the mind with words as well.
Thanks,
Arlenez
GIFTS
I'd love to paint you a masterpiece, Yah
Of the beautty my grateful eyes see.
But an artistic hand as at easel I stand
Is a talent not given to me.
I'd like to sing you a love song, Yah,
But my voice is no longer young.
The sound of the notes rasping up from my throat
For the ears' sake are better unsung.
I'd like to weave you a tapestry, Yah
From yarn spun from silver and gold.
But I stare at the loom in frustration and gloom
It's clear that the fabric won't hold.
Gifts You have given to all, who would serve You,
To let the world know of Your glory.
I'm starting to see that the gift given me
Is to praise You in poem and in story.
So, with canvas of paper, a pen as my brush,
With words as the notes to my song,
Lines woven in place by the cords of Your grace,
I'll tell of You all my life long.
Amen
thank you
that was great