Writing at a quarter past one,
Praying ’bout the message to come…
The word searching–
Badly needs churching,
Will he be too sleepy to come?
IN A FUNK:
The writer of limericks,
In a funk that sticks…
An elephant’s hide,
The trunk–it feels like this!
Blood sugar was three twenty-two,
This morning–awful but true–
To one ninety-one
When evening had come,
Would you be cranky too?
It’s not just how he ate,
Much more figuratively on his plate…
And huge bills to pay,
Almost in a defeated state.
It was him that was his undoing,
He’s praying for a rescuing…
Maybe a way
Through his Four-oh-one-Kay,
He could reverse his undoing!
ONE STREET AT A TIME
With white-out conditions out there
Some drivers think it’s unfair…
That plows won’t do
Their own street too,
And keep it more than just fair.
One hundred, two hundred trucks,
Out in the city to buck…
Mostly main streets
Where emergency fleets
Have to run with any luck.
Plowing right to the road
Means traffic slowed…
With faster passes
The driving masses
Are safer without being towed.
Using sand increases traction
On roads less needed for action…
My town has a mix,
Salt/sand which sticks
Enabling proper enaction!
Some folks have come back to stay
For a while til snowfall goes away…
When road crews can sand
Gaining the upper hand,
Until then, make coffee and pray.
ECONOMIC SPIRITUAL NECESSITY
The wife came in, sat on the bed,
We cuddled and I heard what she said…
It wasn’t good news
As we shared our views,
The situation was not in good stead.
My said she knew I was dealing
With depression and a trapped feeling…
And so was she
Trying to see,
An answer to all we’ve been through.
We ended up starting to pray,
For us that’s the practical way…
To deal vis-a-vis
With what really is,
To seek God in the midst of a fray!
My wife…I think I’ll keep her…
For her wisdom and spiritual demeanor,
Despite all the pain
One day she’ll reign
At the feet of the One who is our Teacher.
In the midst of an old man’s fantasy
About a young girl he adored…
He realized, woe is me,
What if her innocence were ignored?
An elder or a younger man,
With evil on the mind…
Could take her as a mere trophy
Then cast the wreckage behind!
He began to pray unto his Lord
Sincere and fervently…
To keep his adored from such pain,
At least ’til maturity.
Too many young ones taken
By evil men for lust,
Are broken down and lose their souls…
Betrayed by unknowing trust.
The innocence of childhood
In a body that looks adult…
Still needs to be protected,
Not cheated by craft and guilt.
He enjoyed the innocent laughter
That the young woman produced…
Ashamed of his own thoughts after,
How he wished she was ne’er seduced
To give up what and whom she was,
For a single time of loss…
Until the time she could willingly
Love a man who was worth the cost!
He had no daughters, neither sons,
But he felt a burden true…
Praying to protect the innocent ones
Including perhaps you, too.