The Plane With Prawns

At my wake from the bed of life And a walk to the sea shore I saw no bend, no end All was like a plane with grains of gain I planned, played and prayed thru’ the plane Along the path I saw a palm tree I placed my hands at it and rested my back Tho' with my heart panting Could i see anyone chanting or ranting? No! I mean not even psalms As I leave with the palm leaves in my palms I met the potter, he gave me two pots And showed me a hut where I slept unhurt I ate and drank from the pots as I make sports I picked some prawns on my path What a great catch with no match? Praising and prancing, I proceeded On my plight in the plane The prime plight that marked my plea; A pail was planted in the plane I planned and played into the pail Just that i failed to pray Even when there was no hail There I hurt my legs, lost my prawns and broke my pots But i didn't turn a prey The potter shun his rays Alas! A pail, that pains in the plane with prawns. 1Cor.10:12, 2Cor.9:10- 15.