Blessing Bells. Stressing Scales Poem by John Sensele

Hurt
If I ignore blessings galore
Curt
My posture be when I brush aside faith folklore.

On bended knees
I acknowledge wife, three offspring, two grandsons
From God's decrees
I enjoy favours under moons, stars and suns.

Sterling career heights
Doctors, rectors, proctors
Light up my life with faith flights
I reckon in favour factors.

University lecturer
Headmaster, college principal, author
Poet, developer, manufacturer
Never at any point a loafer.

Life crowned with success
Temerity and humility
Punctuated with God's access
In a faith favoured and flavoured facility.

Can't complain
So much to acknowledge
Power of God so plain in the plane
I scale in the realm of skill and knowledge

Jesus every second whispers
In academia where goods and services I deliver
As my journey on Earth prospers
With so much glitter beyond Twitter where God pours so much silver

According to his plan
Whether I smile for a while
Lose arguments to my clan
Or thrive for the militant mile

I pack in my gratitude
Whether morbid mongrels frown
When rises my latitude
And on my pate God commands a crown

Blessing my family
Steadying my resolve
Regardless of the homily
Claiming histories and hiccups in my journey I can't solve.

Cos the Lord ordains order
In the life He pumps and lumps on me
At the center and in the border
Where He pours blessings, graces and favours I garner with glee

Right, left and centre
At birth
Although I'm the dissenter
To whom God grants a blessed berth

Despite circumstances
My childhood endured and lured
In longitudes, latitudes, distances, glances and instances
God for good ensured, insured and cured

Despite odious opposition and dribble deposition
In circles thrown into disarray
Speculating and oscillating supposition
When God blesses me as I daily pray

For them that wish me ill
For them who God needs to save
For them on whom lies a bother bill
No matter how much malice they crave when for sin they slave

Wishing I'd die
Dreaming I'd fail
To live the up in the sky pie
When destiny drives them at high celerity to Hell

Where they groan
While I rest
Away from the tone and zone
That God grants on my crest although stressed and distressed

Misunderstood in the neighbourhood
If they had their way
Understood in the mood and food
I munch wishing they held sway

At my discomfiture
In a plethora of misfortunes
Devoid of limpid literature
Swinging and spinning on mundane moons.