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by Denny Lancaster
250527
Infectious body set thy lip in glee,
and upon your face a smile I will see,
lifting my sullen spirit whose heart,
will arise, arise and do my own part.
Please my dear Lord, do this for me.
Infectious limbs hanging, now raise
these limp calloused hands in praise,
to this life's burden I must cling,
rather than with hands together wring.
Please my dear Lord, you doth amaze.
Infect my mind with pain beyond relief,
in words or acts to others not grief,
for the picture on this page is real,
and upon occasion harsh words I feel
Please dear Lord, let me be their thief.
Direct my hands to mold a kind comment,
upon this world, little time is spent
so erase a harsh words and then replace
them with your unending thoughts and grace.
Please dear Lord, let your seed ferment.
Transect detractors, into the picture seen
for by dwelling may they also live and glean,
reason and thought of those whom are forgot,
and be an advocate with no regret who fought.
Please dear Lord, do not let any of us careen.
Footnote: I wrote to Robert asking for permission to use his creation "Infection" with repeated visits and knowing that a poem must be written. The poem is a reflection of "harsh words" written or received which is an infection which tears at the soul and heart of us all.
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