Poems

Blessings

  

There's the common saying

Count your blessing

And so I did on my swing swaying

For the noises in my ear I heard ring.

The gentle tears ran down the face

But I wiped and thought on

Look at the sun, the blue sky, and the clouds that do race

Look at the rain and storm that are now gone.

Look at the trees, the forests the waves,

The buildings, the wind, the roads,

The family, the friends, the people our good God gave

In whose presence he ensures we are not bored.

I have counted my blessings and so

I feel I should do something unheard of

Something people would never advice to give a go

Something that they would say can only make me rough.

Now I count my curses-

The tears that fell from her eyes

The pain she suffered

The sorrow she felt,

The last of her days,

Still in mourning.

And as she sleeps, 

Never gaining rest,

I look on,

The curse has still not left.

Is it beautiful

In this world without her

The darkness that clouds me?

I am not one to write an elegy

But I reside in gloom still

In the inauspicious days ahead

Counting my curses

And occasionally my blessings.