©  Jeanne E Webster

Help me! I can’t get up!
I can hardly reach my cup;
I’m much too weak to sup
Or belch a good hiccup.

I once was strong and hale;
Now I’m flabby and frail.
I walked the satanic trail;
Unfit now, I sure do ail.

You see, been off my feed,
Partook of that bad seed,
Ate many tares and weeds,
And choked on worldly creeds.

I walked down a wrong track
And tripped over a crack.
I surely caught some flack;
My spirit’s blue and black

You see…

The carnal body got fed.
Lots of loose paths led
To sins of absolute dread.
Now the spirit’s almost dead:

It’s an insipid gray-blue,
Too weak to even chew;
It needs to sip good brew.
How about some holy stew?

As I dine upon the Word
The Good News has stirred.
My spirit again has heard
And gives wing like a bird.
*
Come–I will give you rest
…Let Me enter as your Guest.
…Lay your burdens on My breast
…And may your hearts be blessed.