Attempt 2

Sure, this my soul of mine does honest speak!
If this my heart in me could only feel
And this my mind might follow close and clear,
how much my soul divine to me would teach!

Alas trod I an over-shadowed path,
far long from joyful discipline’s rich fruits!
So stupid pride in lazy impulse-field
my life divine does shapeless waste away.

What to do?
What, oh what to do?

of God and Good, of friendship without end

Attempt 1

In this my heart of mine where stepping from
the angels robed by shining Light declare
yet all be well as all is one so none
shall slip beneath great God’s whole tender care.

!Up speak my soul! as wind blown ghosts in sheets
more white than desert bone snort chortle shriek,
mock heaven, joy and discipline with bleats.
!Up speak my soul! to lift me when I’m weak.
How kind is God? How wide the realm divine?
Your children decked out dress-up seek a sign
in marble halls by whisper jungle stream
our silly fingers stretch when fool’s gold gleams.

[Bartleby’s Poetry Corner]