Wems Henry Temmy Psalm 55



It started with a soft touch--
A touch and smart kick by the baby.
Lo! She couldn't hold her clutch.
No any longer; a bit tightened, maybe.

When body is no longer at ease,
Available strength become exhausted.
While trying to man up to cease,
It seemed like for it, breath deems costed 

Grant the power to deliver safely 
Trigger, trigger her inner circle to push 
That her cool mind thinks ably 
And not having the progeny to the bush

Listening to the enthusiastic voice 
Of the doctors, encouraging her wits
To keep making a fervent noise 
In order to secure what the labor befits

There lies a chance to have new life
Out of you wanting to see a new exposition
So push with your might and afterwards laugh
About this thrilling moment of such condition

Push with the little strength remained in you
Push push oh Lord, kindly help her out
With You in here; the labour room may be blue 
But the order will go beyond human doubt 

Her heart freeze in the moment's ice
She keeps up with the fight in faith
Her running fountain wets down her eyes 
To think not of is the needs of coming days; eighth

She couldn't find the right need for plea 
How doctors are to help her pay the price 
And make the distant pleasure be free
Which the atmospheric battle do not suffice 

Her heart beats check in and feel ire
The fruit (s) is/are not only ripe 
Her emotion runs in intense subdued fire 
But also has caused life to gripe 

Cause her to write a thrilling epic
For the pains in labor is never hype
Owned chance of her last breath turns her agnostic
There come the true being which is not her type

You are the ever reliable pier between death and life 
That after some months, she'd eat rice 
How God paid for her the worthy price 
Money won't able to settle will make her laugh 

Of that day
Whenever is convenient 
To remember her say
In pain for gain so lenient

"The rippest of womb's fruit
Comes with aching pleasure
Blowing off caution one's flute
For the womb to release it's treasure

With a saddened encounter 
Growing tears of joy in reserve
Travels with fear; friendly counter
By which the heart composure is unnerve 

But for all regrets to be silent 
Survival may be wrong to pray
How happy if the fruit is absent
Such happiness will not be gay

Though, mind less think of joy
Not to bring breath to its last 
Everything; you become so annoy 
Thinking about the concurring blast

How can you pray 
How won't you groan 
Watching what you say
Keep watch and condone 

How won't you dance
How much is His goodness 
When in labour that you live in trance
That He delivered you from its darkness"

Hallelujah!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

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