Not My Will

She walks beside the coursing stream
Her mind well full of thoughts that seem
To cloud her vision with their steam
All but a dream, all but a dream

She sighs aloud and breathes a prayer
That God will lift from her this care
Or else will come beside and share
The burden bear, the burden bear

She turns from stream to mount the hill
As answer comes so soft and still
In sweet surrender, words then spill
Lord, not my willβ€”Lord, not my will

From mountaintop she views the sun
The twilight hour has just begun
No thought within her mind save one
Thy will be done, Thy will be done

Copyright Β© 2017 Angela Umphers Rueger – All Rights Reserved

6/29/17 — This poem was written to explore a verse form that is new to me, monotetra: a monorhyme written in tetrameter in the which the final line of each stanza is two repeated feet. There can be any number of stanzas.

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