My Bible

I like to read my Bible,
When I go to bed each night;
I like to read a chapter through,
Before I turn off my light.
But some nights when I'm tired,
And can no longer see to read,
I just hold my Bible in my hands,
It seems that's all I need.

Its nearness and its closeness,
Grant wondrous dreams to me.
I can visualize my Lord,
As a youth at Galilee.
I see Jonah, I see Noah,
I see Peter, even Paul.
And I feel truly blest some nights,
To see the Fairest One of All.


My heart goes out to poor, rich Job,
As I hear his plaintive pleas.
I am hurting right there with him,
Oh, God, do help us, please!
Just holding onto that dear Book,
Allows me special powers.
I've traveled to Jerusalem,
I've seen the Babel Towers.

I've traveled to both gardens,
Sometimes they're intertwined.
I've seen the place where Jesus wept,
And where Satan snatched mankind.
I saw Jesus in His swaddling clothes,
I saw that wondrous star;
I shed tears for Him at Calvary,
When I saw His body marred.


On those nights I'm over-tired,
And only want to rest,
And do not want to read or think,
That's when holding's at its best.
For then the sense of calm I get,
Slows down my racing mind.
And I deeply sigh in my relief,
To the welcome peace I find.

When sad, I lay my tearful cheek,
Against my Bible's cover.
And I sense a sweet caress,
More gentle than a lover's.
If I am chilled, it warms my hands,
My heart seems warmer, too.
My twisted fingers straighten out,
They truly feel renewed.


If my head is throbbing,
From the tasks I did that day,
I hold my Bible to my brow,
The ache soon goes away.
I get a warmth or energy,
When something seems to flow.
Between my body and my Book,
I know that this is so.

All I do is hold the Book,
No need to turn a leaf;
I get a message straight from God,
And receive Divine Relief.
If over time my vision dims,
And I can no longer look,
I'll still caress it with my hand,
I'll not give up my Book.


And, of all the years I have survived,
And, of all the books I've read,
My Bible is the only book,
I'll want at my death bed.

~ Virginia Ellis ~
Copyright 1999

Enter Recipient's Email:


Please click here for permission to use graphics.

Next   Ginny's Poetry   Home