A Poem: based on Isaiah 43 1-7

My Creator

Loves me, His creation.

Nothing,

Not a thing

Will thwart His redeemed child from

Being brought to Him.

Waters high and

Rivers deep

Will not drown me,

Or wash me from His saving arms.

He will pay my ransom:

My Jesus, my Saviour!

I am His.

A polished jewel in His crown,

Rubbed clean with the cloth

Of His Holy Spirit.

Whether in the N. S. E or W

He brings me,

His prodigal,

Home!