Bunyan's Rhymes for a Weary Mind

I had struggled, as I had written,
    so many words, yet, so few smitten.

It is an art, a craft; my craft,
    to walk away would certainly be daft.

I read his words; a silly rhyme?
    No, for truly, Bunyan's rhymes,
had stood the test of tyme.

And as Bunyan rhymed,
    he reminded this weary mind,
That there was a Book of a certain kind,
    The likes to which another we can not find.

A Book of Poetry,
  A Book of Allegory,
    A Book of Mystery,
That spans the pages of History.

His Words are Art,
    they made whole my heart.

Art, is love in motion;
    music or words running fluid as the ocean,
Telling the tale of His love throughout all of creation.