The Prodigal


I am so tired and hungry,
How could I have been so dumb?
As to ask for my inheritance
And take my wealth and run?

I have turned out all my pockets
To see what I could find
No, there is nothing left,
Not even one thin dime.

My wealth has been spent foolishly
On things that have no meaning
On women, drugs and booze
What on earth was I thinking?

These husks the pigs are eating
Are beginning to smell near good
If my stomach could stand it
I would eat this swill for food.

I think I might go home again
And ask my father for a job;
He might not take that kindly,
After all I have been a snob.

His servants have life better
Than I have had of late.
(I rearranged my tattered rags
And headed out the gate.)

After many a weary mile
Walking on swollen feet
My belly calling urgently
Wanting something soon to eat.

I see my father standing
There upon the lawn
As though he is awaiting
His errant son come home.

I guess I should have known
That he would do his part
Though my actions were selfish
His is a fatherís loving heart.

I feel only my own shame
As I see him standing there
His eyes upon the road
And in his heart a prayer.

"My son at last returns,
What more could I desire"
I see it in his face
It sets my soul on fire.

I donít deserve his blessing
But He has forgiven all
Gives me a welcome hug
And brings me into the hall.

He kills the fatted calf
The one saved for special guests
A ring slips on my finger,
I get the very best.

Father please forgive me,
I must have been insane,
Forgive the awful damage
I have brought upon your name.

Your love has brought me back
Never more to roam
Thank you for your welcome
And all the days to come.


- Joyce Guy -

[ by: Joyce Guy (Joy Of Art Shop) -- Copyright © 2003 (jguy453@bellsouth.net) submitted by: Joyce Guy ]

       

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