Morning Prayer
When I’ve a bit of attitude,
my Missy teaches gratitude.
At every meal, she salivates;
wagging her tail, she cleans her plate.
Do I pant such for thee, O Lord?
Or only when I can afford
some spare coin on a Sunday morn,
forgetting the high cost you’ve born.
Be gentle, Lord, and by your grace,
remind me that you’ve set a place
A banquet, no mere kibble there:
Forgive and draw me near, my prayer.
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