We drove no points,
We read few verses,
Heard no diatribes,
Made few fusses.
Had no readings, prayer* or talks;
Just a crippled Lenten walk.
Fighter Verses are in need:
How to supplant lazy greed**, or,
Move the soul to feel the burn,
of knowing weakness isn't spurned;
Stake a claim on vision plans
Transforming flesh
into Real Men?
In 2012,
Reject 'again.'
(*That's not entirely true... I now recall some quality prayer times; just minus one or two of us. And, well, once I finally figured out what I was giving up for Lent, it was 2/3rds over. Is giving up 'pants in church' a serious sacrifice? Well, YEAH.)
((** HoneyBaked Ham
So overrated,
Mem'ries of cash
In Gramp's eggs,
Jaded.
Music played
At this piano
Rarely sacred,
More like Shallow.))
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