Poetry

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All through the year,
We save, we scrounge, we fear!
Charities steered clear of and kept at bay.
Fees, cheques and bills to pay,
Beggars and Donation boxes make us flinch,
Bank balance shows close to zilch.
Through all our “no” and “later”,
God is patient and never bitter.
He holds us in His hands when things get rough,
Even when surviving till the month end seems tough.
When we turn the nelson’s eye or the deaf ear.
To the blind man begging at the street corner,
God is ever near.
He chides us with a father’s love,
Not with the crack of a whip and a boxing glove.
His mercy and His grace are new every morning,
The least we can do is thank Him by our giving,
And not be a Scrooge even with a shilling
Reach out to someone who is hurting.
We will light many a lamp of joy,
If the instrument of love we employ.
When our fingers play “freeze” when we need to give
Let us remember the lives we might save
To praise Him and worship Him is the reason for our living
Let our good works sing His praise this thanksgiving.

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