PRAYER AT THE END OF A ROPE
Dear Lord, observe this bended knee, This visage meek and humble, And heed this confidential plea, Voiced in a reverent mumble.
I ask no miracles nor stunts, No heavenly radiogram; I only ask for once, just once, To not be in a jam.
One little moment thy servant craves Of being his own master; One placid vale between the waves Of duty and disaster.
Oh, when the postman’s whistle shrills Just once, Lord, let me grin: Let me have settled last month’s bills Before this month’s come in.
Let me not bite more off the cob Than I have teeth to chew; Please let me finish just one job Before the next is due.
Consider, too, my social life, Sporadic though it be; Why is it only mental strife That pleasure brings to me?
For months, when people entertain, Me they do not invite; Then suddenly invitations rain, All for the self-same night.
R.S.V.P.’s I pray thee send Alone and not in bunches, Or teach me I cannot attend Two dinners or two lunches.
Let me my hostess not insult Not call her diamonds topaz; Else harden me to the result Of my fantastic faux pas.
One little lull, Lord, that’s my plea, Then loose the storm again; Just once, this once, I beg to be Not in a jam. Amen.