Treasure Island

Cynthia BuhainBaello

(November 17,1949 / Manila, Philippines)

Thank You Lord For Work


For work, we thank You Lord
Indeed it is a blessing.
To buy the things we can afford,
A source of income for our living.

Work is good, a great therapy.
It cures both idleness and pockets,
We make use of Your time wisely
And when bills come we do not fret.

Work does give one dignity,
Self-reliance and Self Respect.
We do not lean on sympathy
But do our part as all expect.

Thank You Lord, bless our hands
That our work may be completed.
Bless our minds to understand
Work is Your gift - appreciated.

----
'But remember the Lord Your God for it is He Who gives
you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms His covenant
to Your forefathers....'

Deuteronomy 8: 18

Submitted: Friday, July 03, 2009
Edited: Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Thank You Lord For Work by Cynthia BuhainBaello )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. The Lake, William Daryl Hine
  2. The Copper Beech, William Daryl Hine
  3. On This Rock, William Daryl Hine
  4. Last Words, William Daryl Hine
  5. Echo, William Daryl Hine
  6. Don Juan In Amsterdam, William Daryl Hine
  7. A Thousand Words, William Daryl Hine
  8. Of some kind, hasmukh amathalal
  9. Partridge, Nassy Fesharaki
  10. The problem, hasmukh amathalal

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]