Is Writing Poetry Addictive? Poem by Denis Martindale

The angel of the Lord came down
And placed his hand on mine
And told me I don't need to frown
If I'd write out each line...
For, in the writing, words appeared
To rest upon the page,
Such that my doubts had all but cleared,
Now locked up in a cage...

From that day on, I've tried to write,
Fresh lines that share new faith,
To fill this dark world up with light,
In hopes to make it safe...
So writing's not a hobby, friend,
To while away the hours,
But something wise to comprehend,
That grants us godly powers...

It's not like magic borne of Man,
Or casting spells abroad,
But gently fitting in God's plan
To lead us to the Lord...
That's why the preacher writes a hymn,
A psalm of perfect grace,
Not just to satisfy a whim,
But that we seek God's face...

Thus, to the Throne of God, draw close,
Beyond the poet's rhyme,
To God above, for He well knows
What's perfect and sublime...
For this old world needs so much more
Than things that shoppers buy,
It needs a reason to live for,
Beyond that question, 'WHY? '

To help another on the way,
That's why I choose to write,
It doesn't matter, night or day,
As long as there's insight...
A beacon set upon a hill,
A star set high above,
Though writing's known to give a thrill,
Let's write by faith, with love...


Denis Martindale February 2017.