Sonnet- God make me thine
Do mould me God, this lump of earth to form,
To any shape thy fancy tells Thee to;
A pot at least to hold water conform,
Let me not leak in life but serve Thee too.
Do beat me God, this gold into thin foil,
As thin as hair but strong enough for use;
Let me protect the sweet-meats from air-spoil,
Or decorate a thing to men enthuse.
Do turn me God in vice of love thy choice,
To serve thy fellowmen and Thee always;
With satisfaction, then let me rejoice,
Forever aft I've lasted earth's set days.
I'm thine 0 God, good instrument of deed,
No more my heart can have its earthly greed.
poem by John Celes
Added by Poetry Lover
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