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The Guardian



I look towards the mountains,
To where I can find aid;
For now the sky darkens,
I have become afraid.

My help comes from the Lord,
Maker of Heaven and earth;
I know I am not ignored,
Any requests since birth.

He will not let me fall,
And will not fall asleep;
Always comes when I call,
Calms me if start to weep.

He is my guardian,
His right hand is my shade;
Stops any scorpion,
Is trying to invade.

The sun during the day,
Will not beat down on me;
But the moon lights my way,
At night so I can see.

The Lord guards from evil,
And is guarding my life;
All acts from the devil,
Of the toils and strife.

He guards me as I go,
As well as my return;
Forever He does know,
So I never will burn.

So I look to the hills,
Where my help will come from;
The faith that He instills,
Chases away the glum.


Copyright   2013 Richard Newton Sherrer







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