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
