THE WORKING MAN

How can I tell you how long I have waited?

Time means nothing without your ear

to the wall of my heart, listening for the sound

of my eratic path to your house of Joy.

Oh what am I to say of my trembling hand

upon your chest as I push for the try against

the odds of a team of players who know who

is going to win without costing the game

for the word is that all the real players

are about to resign their time for the working

man of God is here.

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2021

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