Sonnet 277

In those quiet moments when god sleeps
I pray to him knowing he cannot hear
These murmured pleas that earnestly beseech
Or fervently thank him for his love and care;
Here echoes do return as joy or pain
So meted in long minutes or brief days,
Those random bursts of sunshine or of rain
That leads me to the hope that heaven sways
Some blessed direction to my lonesome path,
That is true lit by some sweet guiding light
And not a darkened journey filled with wrath,
Its shadowed valleys marked by endless blight;
But if it comes to be I walk alone,
Hope and serendipity were my song.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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