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

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