PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You called my spouse from me my Lord and God,

But I still live in an apartment house,

Where none would take a note nor find it odd

If I were all too quiet in a drowse.



Computers, this you know Lord, they help not

With none that will to messages reply,

If someone lies upon a bed or cot,

And none to overhear for help a cry.



Don’t call me Lord I pray when I am home,

Where my poor mortal coil for months would rot,

I keep a treasure ‘neath a glassy dome,

An oak wood urn, please keep it safe dear Lord!



But if you wish to call me, then I plead,

Please let it happen  on a subway seat,

Or better still, a very busy street,

So that some passer-by may notice it.







AMEN



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last updated 11 October 2010 - 4:04am
©28 September 2004 - 1:35pm — blumentopf