As life drones on its weary, inexorable way, I fight to remain clear on my task. To love, honour, cherish - every way, every day, To keep that smile fixed on my mask. My pain is so real, as sharp as a knife, Despite my attempts to break free, It has stayed in my side for all of my life, So I looked to my Lord to help me. But, no help was He in the ways that I asked As his view was different to mine, This thorn, to me was a dark ghost of the past, Whilst for Him, it stood for sublime. For the point of the thorn wasn’t the pain, That I felt every day of my life, Its purpose I find, was to keep me in mind, And to ensure I’m a wonderful wife. For the thorn in my side keeps my feet on the ground As without it, I sure you now see - My arrogance, pride and ego abound, I would not have time left for Thee! Now every day, as I feel the thorn’s presence, I smile as Your grace kills the pain. For now, that I’m sure of Your omniscience The thorn is no longer my bane.     If you have any comments about this poem then please click the feedback button above and post them in my forum.   Back to My Poetry Page The Authors Haunt Author Directory The Authors Haunt Library The Authors Haunt Home

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