Careless Husband

He doesn’t get the hang of it
So busy, not much time
To ponder that sweet Gospel gold
And Jesus’ love sublime.
I read my Bible secretly.
I meet with girls of Faith.
And Sunday morning he plays golf.
While I a pew will take.
He ‘s getting older, pains and all.
His language often crude.
And money plagues his waking hours.
I pray his heart renewed.
Our Son a point of pride for us.
Away, his job out West.
And phone talks, letters, lift my Man.
The boy will get his best.
The boy has heard my good report*
He says he’ll find his way.
But open religion, just way too much
A social price to pay.
So lonely here, exchange so slight.
Just like some closet case.
It must be prayer, I wouldn’t dare
Confront him face to face.
Lord hear me now.
Convert my Men
To share the same last place.



(*Philippians 4: 8)