Too many times I sit on my duff,
Fussing and fuming over some stuff.
What does this mean?
To me she seemed ...
I reach the point I’m not good enough.
In these times, I know what I can do,
Turn my thoughts to another, not brood.
For if I sit
The day does fit
Into a problem and a bad mood.
Simple it sounds, but it’s not easy,
Turning my thoughts away from just me.
I turn to God;
He grins and nods,
With open arms He points to His knee.
“Come,” He says “and sit with me my child.
There is no need to fuss and get wild.
I am right here.
No doubt, no fear.”
Then I get moving, off with a smile.