Josh Litwiller Sonnet

There is a wall that forms in front of me;
A massive wall that hides me from the Cross;
Across the wall a place for what is free;
And this the place of death forth hence my loss.

The land under my foot is not but dry,
The grass so thin, so scarce and not but there;
No warmth, no hope, all happy thought shall die;
This must not be, I need to breathe new air.

So go I must to conquer what is seen;
I climb with grace that from thy God above
Over the wall and to the land of green,
Away from sin and into God's own Love.

Because the wall now behind, grass and dew
I see and now I'm free and made anew.

John Mitchem Sonnet

My jeep is broken for it caught on fire

And now it sets surrounded by more dead

Forgotten cars that make my mom desire

To let our mess drive her out of her head

I would have liked repairing it this Fall

As soon as money came my way but this

Semester, Summit took away it all

To teach me truth, but Jeeping I still miss.

My father's a mechanical man though

He needs some power since he broke his truck

My jeep has more than he can even know

So think about it: my fantastic luck

Instead of fixing it when I get home

He'll fix it, killing two birds with one stone

Jessica Wedel Sonnet

Can God forgive my lack of gratitude-
Who made the sun, the moon, the stars, the sea,
Who guides the storms and tiny honey bee,
Who filled the earth and by whose love subdued,

Who made the mountains high, the sky protrude,
Who wrote the sweet song of the chickadee,
Who formed the man in the image of Thee,
Who orchestrates the laws of the etude?

I thank the Lord who made, who wrote, who filled.
My gratitude, His mercy does demand,
Because of grace I raise this thankful hand.
The blood of Christ, instead of mine He spilled.

This fallen man my God does not abhor.
His steadfast love endures forever more.

Ellen Whaley - Paths Before Me

So many are the paths mine eye can see,

How shall I lead my hes'tant feet along?

Perchance my muse the scientist shall be,

My mind from the great minds of old made strong

As seeking knowledge I their footsteps trace.

Or is my life for diff'rent purpose meant?

Shall “mother” be the cry, from darling face

In sweetest tones, that makes my heart content?

One thing I know and it shall e'er be true:

A greater hand than mine doth guide my way.

No treach'rous wave or sky of darkest hue

Shall ever make Him cast the helm away.

Whatever tale my Lord should write for me,

I shall His faithful servant always be.