Monday, March 17, 2008

come Monday

come Monday,
Jesus groaned
getting out of bed,
trying to stretch out
the stiffness and tenderness
from riding that donkey;

hungry enough
to eat a donkey,
he grumbled under his
when the service
was so lousy at
his usual eatin' place;

wanting to find
some silence and solace
he wandered into
and wailed with grief
when he saw
that it had become
so upmarket
that those
who needed it
were not to be found;

come Monday . . .

(c) 2008 Thom M. Shuman

1 comment:

Stushie said...

As always, Thom, your poem-prayers are excellent..