Smiling eyes across the table, just as it used to be
Lined wrinkly, laughing, smiling eyes just for me.
My arms were on her shoulders to get a kiss
Her hot crying eyes grew colder, my kiss a miss.
All this time I was dreaming and scheming
Sometimes a man, at times a beast running wild.
I’d much rather the other, it was a dreaming
That would quiet and soothe an ailing child.
This was not my lost poem, but I will take it
Dear Lord, You’ve done it again, as always;
I ask, You provide. There are times, I think,
Am I special in Your eyes,
Or am I as the beast running wild? If so,
Take me Lord, my heart, my mind and my soul
Take me. Make me whole, throw me back in the mill.
I will, go on to follow Your will.
Copyright 2013 Charles E. Frost
July 17, 2013