Many years ago, a strong hunger stirred
Like romance in young hearts, I was smitten,
I was deeply drawn to arranging word,
By the poetic bug I was bitten.
At first I did struggle with temper high!
Frustrated because I just could not grasp,
At times I would cry, ‘why can’t I, God why?’
And so I prayed, and my hands I did clasp.
So the Holy Spirit became my muse,
Through whispered appeals it now guides my hand,
I no longer have the writer’s block blues,
And my inspiration; is divinely grand.
Like wind, I know not from where the words start,
Only that they now, are sown in my heart.
Copyright Michael J. Donnelly 2016