A HARVEST OF THANKS

I whine and whine
In lines and out-lines
Shouting burning brimes
Shouting bitter limes
Shouting no time
Shouting no dime
As though You are in crime
But You weave my success quietly like You in mime

II
I am not perfect
Tiredness and fear soil chances of me being perfect
But You show me respect
I am no prefect
But You make me You inspect
After standing still like in defect
You are touching
You are healing
You are fixing
While leading and brightening
You are equipping
You are loving and loving
You are protecting
Harmers are falling,  falling and falling
“Onyame! Oberempong! Ohenepong! Amaniampong! Otweeediampong!”
I have no tongue
I have no mouth
I have not enough breath
To harvest the thankfulness planted in my heart
By Your perfect plan
I can only bow in solemn thankfulness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015