God blinked that day
not once, but twice.
He tires easily these days
of watching all his sheep
as they meander through
the green green grass of home.
It's how he missed the sin,
committed by a lamb
who was confused at that
and took the lower road.
There was no mother
and no nanny to observe.
I'll make a deal with you, my Lord,
you keep your cotton-pickin' eyes
and those of all your angels,
as well as devils and the like
upon the one who looks to you
and all of us for small poetic signs.
And if you do, my Lord, I promise this to you
that this well worn but still intact
gregarious soul from just below the railroad tracks
is ready now to sign upon the holy dotted line,
all for the pleasure of a peasant's silly dream.
Some of us find it easier to make a pact with the devil but a deal with God is probablymore fruitful... skilful indeed, and thought-provoking. Your writing is of such caring style, here, H. But I guess that is because of the nature of its author. t xxxxxxxxx
Whimsical? Perhaps. Serious? Maybe. But it is a poem to make you smile and think all the while. Nice. Raynette
Bargaining with God? I have to admit to doing that quite often......a wonderful poem Herbert! Hope you're doing fine! Sincerely, Mary
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
If love could heal, we would all be whole - you are a font of goodness in every poetic form, Herbert! For anyone whose loved one has been near death: we understand.