Sonnet: Psalm 23
As a lamb, I do not want for the Lord
Is my shepherd and tends my feeble soul,
The sly, shadowy wolves from which he wards
Me; He quenches my thirst to make me whole.
His wooden rod and staff of protection,
Guide me as I walk the valley of death,
A lost sheep, the Lord gives me direction,
And comfort, and even my daily breath.
Before mine enemies’ eyes, he prepares
A table. He drops blessings on my head
With anointed oil and murmured prayers.
My cup runneth over, my living bread!
At my heels, goodness and mercy follow,The Lord’s house fills my heart, no more hollow.
I, too, have gained a greater respect for Milton composing sonnets...what an endeavor!