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I Will Choose You

When struggles come into my life,
When difficulties brew.
I will take heart, I will have peace,
Dear Lord I will choose you.

To live with you in poverty,
Or without you in wealth.
Dear Lord, I’d be a poor woman,
And trust you’ll give me health.

Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego,
All three chose you, Dear Lord.
Therefore the fire could not burn,
Your grace was their reward.

Oh God, your presence overwhelms!
Oh Lord, I am in awe!
Through rattling and raging storms,
You’re with me evermore.

Father you have the final say,
You’re just, and you are wise.
Our perfect Saviour Jesus died,
But indeed, He did rise.

In times of harvest, growth, and crops,
In times of driest grounds.
I thank you for your presence Lord,
Acknowledge you’re around.

When things are great and when they’re not,
I know just what to do.
I’ll put you first above all things,
Dear Lord, I will choose you.

Elicia Fyle

Ancient Streets

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A fictional love poem. I hope you enjoy reading.

Ancient streets, modern beats.

His dance was timid, two left feet.

His silent confidence shone through,

My interest in him grew.

Naturally, I could see,

Him filled with glee, his moves carefree.

I reminisced on how we met,

Strangest encounter yet.

It was three years ago or so,

The morning dragged, and I was slow.

I realised I overslept,

Out of my bed I leapt.

The time was eight and I was late.

I grabbed my coat, ran out the gate.

I rushed along the ancient street,

And fell over my feet.

Luckily, I was free,

From any major injury.

My hands were bruised, my spirit down,

I hear a gentle sound.

A voice so deep, yet calm and sweet.

He stood tall on the ancient street.

He offered help for me to stand,

He kindly gave a hand.

From that point on, we’d often talk,

On my commute, we’d often walk.

I didn’t realise it then,

That we’d be more than friends.

Back to the street party story,

The dancing ends, he sits by me.

We gaze into each other’s eyes.

My stomach, butterflies.

From that point on, everything changed,

Our lives completely rearranged.

We faced a new reality,

The rest is history.

By Elicia Fyle

© Elicia Fyle 2021