Two Short Poems

My Prayer

God, let me live each lovely day
So I may know that come what may
I've done my best to love the way
You want me to.

Forgive me if I do not pray
The ultra-sanctimonious way
In church on every Sabbath Day
As some folks do.

Just let me know if I should stray
That I may stop along the way
At any time of night or day
And talk to you.

Compensation

When my luck seems all out
And I'm down at the mouth,
When I'm stuck in the north,
And I want to go south;
When all the world seems a blank
And there's no one I love,
And it seems even God's
Not in heaven above,
I've a cure for my grouch
And it works like a shot —
I just think of the things that I'm glad I am not:
A bird in a cage,
A fish in a bowl,
A pig in a pen,
A fox in a hole,
A bear in a pit,
A wolf in a trap,
A fowl on a spit,
A rug on a lap,
A horse in a stable,
A cow in a shed,
A plate on a table,
A sheet on a bed,
A case on a pillow,
A bell on a door,
A branch on a willow,
A mat on the floor.
When I think of the hundreds of things I might be,
I get down on my knees and thank God that I'm me.
Then my blues disappear, when I think what I've got,
And quite soon I've forgotten the things I have not.

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