That Member

 I have a little member

That often brings me grief,

But if I use it tender,

It also brings relief.

It digs a hole so deep

I cannot quite escape,

Then builds a mountain steep

That none can overtake.

To bridle such I’ve tried,

Too often I have failed,

For, like a lion’s pride,

It will not be withheld.

This member is a sword

That pierces hearts and souls,

Yet also gives a word

Which strengthens and upholds.

A double-sided book,

A swing—first to, then fro—

A teeter-totter crook

That knows not how to go,

A walking-staff at first,

And then a javelin,

A blessing, then a curse—

Oh, who will ever win?

Out of the heart proceeds

The fruits of human speech,

“Lord, plant your holy seeds,

My little member teach.”

Copyright © Elisabeth Linzey 2016