Hair’s Breath

She almost did not make it
The hair’s breath her messiah

“Just grant me fifty, Lord,” she said
“That I might stay a while with them”

Amen, said He to her prayer
Her healing did not tarry

This woman dear, of Hezekiah’s kin
Would get grace to be merry

Through chance and trial –
A physician’s guess – the most blessed accident

A new lease of life, she chanced on –
Fresh meaning, fresh hope, fresh life.

Love Gone Wrong

Sing me a song
Of love gone wrong
Kill me softly
Kill my thrill

Ring out a dirge
Of a battle lost
The prize of a heart
Conceded to another

Plant my seed
On fairer soil
I lose today
But not forever

Teach me the how
Of other worlds to explore
I’ll lift my trophy
When time is ripe