I never met my God, without great likeA Poem by Wandering Minstrelas I tripped over a dead tree,
and saw the tiny creatures that inhabited it's girth. He once snuck up behind me I am sure that he was there, to smile over my shoulder at my son's most precious birth. He squeals with me quite often in the middle of orgasms that little piece of heaven that he's granted us on earth. He tickles in odd places sending my soul into mirth at a funeral when giggles burst as a preacher lisps God's worth, thaying "We muth keep him firth." I meet God oh so often when I'm ill, and feel near death, I pray that he'll recover me, and grant me one more breath. I promise him That I'll be good, then let him down again. He blocked the bullets fired when I spent time in a war, and hopefully he blocked my shots from those that I aimed for. And when I finally meet him as his guest high up above, I'll greet him as my buddy who filled my whole life with love. We'll sit and have a brew or two, of course alcohol free, and then inhale a cloud or two, of all that's heavenly. There's odd in God, and backwards it spells dog mankind's best friend, I never met my God, without great like, that's all....The End!!! © 2014 Wandering MinstrelReviews
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13 Reviews Added on September 6, 2014 Last Updated on September 6, 2014 AuthorWandering MinstrelLondon, United KingdomAboutWelcome! My name is Donovan Arthur Perth. This is a new site where I will post early, and new poems and give myself another venue to work under. Your comments are like drops of honeydew to a dying cac.. more..Writing
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