The liver all aquiver sitting wiggly on the plate
My face all white, my appetite, completely satiate
The smell of it with onions isn’t bad I will contend
I’d rather deal with bunions though, than eat it in the end
The problem is the texture…or the lack of it I meant
The coating is a mixture, hoping flavor will be lent
The transplant of the liver to the stomach seems to me
Worse than swallowing a river – it’s just difficult you see
It appears it has cirrhosis, or some other bad disease
I’d prefer bad halitosis from the onions if you please
I think of it as medical to eat something that filters
It’s very problematical – puts my senses out of kilters
So please don’t think me picky cause I really like all else
It’s just that liver’s icky, and it may alter my pulse.
©Pam Johnson 2006
Like Moses I have broken tablets stone
Can you give them again in place of what I’ve blown?
Please say to me “Let’s go through this again
I’ll help you follow these commandments ten.”
Upon the mountain top in deepest grief
Your Love, better than life, is sweet relief.
Save me from my inadequacies
My many faults are like the falling leaves.
Renew me through the winter of my soul
A steadfast spirit and a heart that’s whole.
Push me, lead me on the path my life
joy in Your presence even in my strife.
©June 21,2009. p. Johnson
I checked the other day and found
against the law, I’m losing ground,
of gravity, I’ve fought the fight.
At first it seems it isn’t right
but then see reason, Yes you must.
We sink and sink until we’re dust.
So sure, I think my neck has moved
but in the scheme it’s simply proved
that though it seems we’re getting old
we’re really nearer streets of gold,
where everything is new again
so I’ll take heart because I can
begin in heaven the place where
no sadness and there’s no night there.
Because of Jesus, there I’ll be
(where there are no wrinkles, presumably)
©Pam Johnson 2009