Count the fitful nights in lonely keep,
Words replete, won’t allow my sleep.
Within gray labyrinth a search begins,
Seek melodic notes, forgiving my sins.
A tune, a note, words to honour one;
Honour my father, once a humble son.
Restless the quest for notes within,
Where words replete; no notes begin.
Recall failed lessons buried here,
Rebellious in youth, I linger there.
Righteously he, set this mind free,
A note is found in thanks to thee.
Within such prose I scribble here;
New words to use in silent prayer.
Blessings ‘n’ keeping's, used before,
Such verbiage in my prayer, soar.
To thee my father, the days I live,
In highest esteem ‘n’ my love give.
Thank you, this path, I been shown.
A righteous path I dare walk alone.
As Wisdom’s guide, you pointed me,
Opened my eyes that I may see.
Eighty plus two, ne’er folly be,
I’ll walk a path set forth by thee.
© copyright R. Anthony H. Rock
|