Humility

Humility is the soil,
the tithe I reach within,
when erring in transpiring,
I wreak and rant in vim.

Futility is the manhunt
my soul would want to seek,
when cost is not aspiring,
or goals are too oblique.

So let me grow with reason,
the seeds I bear, not speak,
but plant in silence knowing
my virtues in my keep.

And let the Lord so nourish
with measures that will win,
but for myself choose merit
that thee will find in Him!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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