You want me to do what? I asked.
I fear I must confess:
That poems arenít my genre,
No, theyíre not what I do best.
We use words to communicate
The deeper truths of Love
Yet as I pen this verse
I fear Godís laughing from above.
Itís not all seriousness and toil,
Oh yes! Iíve heard the rumor:
Beyond saving the universe,
God has a sense of humor.
He sets me down to write this thing,
Though I lack skill or time.
(In poems I just do angry verse
Or Dr. Seuss-type rhyme.)
My background comes from reading stuff
To kiddies at bedtime.
I fear I cannot rise above
That meter or that rhyme.
Or how can God give joy and save
With angry, outpoured feeling?
Or use it to convey truths of
Relationship and healing?
Iím only human and I know
Not everythingís my gift.
If He wants me to do this,He'll have
To help me bridge across that rift.
O! This vesselís cracked and
Seriously lacks the mastery or pith,
So I guess Heíll chuckle and make
The best of what Heís working with.
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