Each Friday I post poetry from my archive, until I run out.
Lend me those years again, Master of Time,
Those days and nights of my childhood and youth
That I have wasted, heedless and spendthrift;
Let once again learning be simple,
Habits—for evil or good—be unformed.
Ah, lend them back to me again, O Lord,
That I may give the good report of them,
Of word and deeds and thoughts, that I cannot
Unless you stretch your hand in mercy out
To grant my prayer and lend me them again.
Yet even so, unless your Spirit leads me,
No better second profit can I show
Each hour, too short, than what I did at first.
Lord, herd this wayward sheep within your paths,
And hem me in, to go no more astray.
This is another somewhat more recent poem, written in the last couple of months, but it echoes this recurring theme. As always, I earnestly welcome your comments, suggestions, critique, or other feedback about this or any other part of my work.
Also posted on my wiki.