The limerick and the ballad

It’s a peculiar thing; poetry.
Restrictive rhyme, clumsy rhythm,
fighting, to fit words together?
Too frequently the flowing freedom of words wants to. Stop.
Numerous attempts fill the waste paper basket.

But the meaning; it cannot be silenced,
it deserves to be sculpted,
constantly and gradually refined.
Then you’ll find, caught between the tangles of words,
the beauty that first captured your imagination.

Separately they sat, the limerick and the ballad.
Two unique forms authored by the same hand.
To merge as one - can harmony be found?
Far from seamless, a necessary rework,
a constant crossing of misread lines.

Now the pen is poised, ready to tell tales full of substance,
moments eager to be written and recited, and remembered for years to come.
Ink writes the humour, the heart, the depth and love, 
but the prose is far from fairytale,
it needs to be guided and nurtured,
an ongoing exercise of grace and forgiveness.
Sacrifice; essential for growth.

What a blessing to have God flowing through your verses,
Christ central to your song.
Embed Him in your daily narrative,
to create a whole new genre,
let your pens inscribe the paper,
together, write the words, of Matt and Lydia.