Thursday, April 08, 2010

Holy Humor Sunday

in the presence
    of stunning sunsets;

stricken with chronic severity
while surrounded
    by gurgling babies;

frozen-souled when touched
by the warmth of

if we are made in your image,
it's no wonder people think of you
as a grouchy old geezer,
    God of Joy.

       so, breathe on us . . .

fill our souls with:
    laughter which chases away
        the long faces;
    chuckles which wipe frowns
        off our brows;
    great guffaws
        which shatter hardened hearts;

           fill us,
           Breath of sidesplitting shrieks,

so we can celebrate
the last laugh on

(c) Thom M. Shuman

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