The Gift of Prayer

Dear Lord, I know the end is soon to come My frightened heart beats like a drum Past events in visual recall In rapid succession I appraise them all WAS this my life after three score and ten The avariciousness of a thieves den WAS this my life ignorant still Low in Spirit and weak in will WAS this my life a degenerate mess Rejecting assistance with such casualness WAS this my life filled with wanton delight Nonsensical whimsies without any respite Dear Lord, I want to cancel it out Forgive me my sins in alarm I shout Lost Sheep, YOU are my chosen one Throughout YOUR meanderings a light has shone YOU have faltered oft I know But throughout each betrayal I have loved you so YOUR cries for help have not been in vain YOUR triumphs my loss, each confession my gain YOUR deeds good and bad are in your eyes So few of mankind do apologise Love is YOUR gift on your sleeping face Peaceful at last in my constant embrace Theresa Stephens