The other day, I had some noodles drowned in sauce.
I did not think there would be any loss,
But my life did kind of hurt
At its splattering on my bleach white t-shirt.
One slip, and now I bear the reddish stain
Of a new aversion to all noodles, which I ought not disdain.
It’s a shame I avoid dishes of my Master’s will,
For I evade those too because of one washable spill.
Yes, time and care must be taken,
But if not, what fear is next, bacon?!
-Austin Ward
Thou snake, my serpent, beguiling me by my eyes,
Thou too shalt see thy death when looking to the skies.
That radiant bliss, all glorious and divine,
I shall not know, thou seller of my wine.
Drunken, I stumble to thee, asking for blunder.
Why do I do such foolish things, I wonder?
My hand reaches for that crimson cup,
But only venom do I feel, my blood corrupt.
The crafty caller of my misplaced desires
Has deceived me with soft-singing choirs,
Angelically playing those voices of light,
And I let the sirens sound and the serpent bite.
Why must thou plague me so,
Oh serpent of my woe?
Can tenderness be found in thee?
I dare not perceive it be.
Thy sole purpose is to drown my heart
By tainted fruits of the vines of earth,
Let nature see my Father’s worth
Who sent His Son to bruise the head
Of the creature who still would have me dead.
Serpent, thy weedish flower is withered,
So return to the place where thou once slithered.
Thy wine has no effect but disgust,
And thy venom only turns into dust.
I do not claim to understand His grace,
I simply know it is mine to fastly embrace.
So take thyself, bold serpent, back to the abyss,
For thou, such a traitorous one, I shall not miss.
-Austin Ward
It is time for Josiah’s way?
The temple is full of other gods.
These idols must be gone today,
These mesmerizing messes of rock and sod.
They turn my eyes to a cloudy haze
Away from my Savior, the perfect Lamb.
Their dirty prophets, the stones, and their priests I’ll raze,
For they hold contempt for the Great I AM.
Shall I mourn for them? No.
I shall rejoice that God is God alone.
-Austin Ward
Phil. 1:21,
6/12/07
Those who know the full power of sin
Are the ones who stand and don't give in,
For they have braved the flood and waves,
Since they know and cry, "Jesus saves, Jesus saves."
Sin's mortal wounds that marred Christ's side
Leave all exposed and none to hide.
Those who know this full foul strength of sin
Are the ones who let no evil in,
Though still the invasion moves on,
Til Christ with wounded hands the victory won.
Darkness ought to fear His Name,
For Christ the Light, He took our blame.
He who knows the full malice of sin
Is the one who died to save all men,
Though perfect, yet man still is He,
We vile creatures were saved, by His blood made free.
Resistance to sin brought Christ's death,
Yet power more than sin gave breath.
-Austin Ward
8/28/06
Cheapened, my love is cheapened
By your abuse of its cleansing power.
You do not see me as you ought, my child,
But less than your sin’s preceding hour.
Cheapened, my love is cheapened
By your misuse of its holy virtue
That seeks to put asunder what I’ve bought:
I died that sin’s death might not hurt you.
Splattered on the ground, you use my blood
To sacrifice to your unfulfilling Baals.
How shall I deal with such a sinful flood,
Which drowns my child in what he fails?
Will Josiah’s way be fitting for these idols?
This question I intend for my son.
Decide, love, should you be cosmocidal
To all the things which you call fun?
Holy, my love is holy,
Not meant as a license to excuse sin.
Do not shrug it off when sin entices your heart;
Do not allow transgressions to win.
Holy, my love is holy;
Ponder instead my deep divinity.
Remember who I truly am, dear love:
I AM, the Eternal Infinity.
-Austin Ward
The shedding of blood,
No remission for sins.
What gift-giving can sting more
With the sharp loss but no gain?
The death on the cross was not all that was mine,
But the cattle’s slaughter and the dove’s blood spill:
They belong to me, too.
The death of which I speak is not one, but two.
The first is the weight of all sin
Bringing the Father to crush me,
And what’s more, that it would please Him to do it.
The second is the whole history of the altar,
Its sacrifices and burnt offerings, innocent and cursed
By the knife of my sin’s lethal need for a perfect sacrifice
Through a God who is patient to love me so
While still my very life has earned His own full wrath.
God shedding His blood,
My remission for sins.
What gift-giving can sting more
With Messiah’s death but my life?
The death on the cross was not all that was mine,
But the Lamb’s slaughter and the wrath cup’s spill:
They belong to me, too.
The death of which I speak is Christ’s, paid and pardoned by my Judge.
I shed my unholy shell
Because I am bought.
Lambs and cattle no longer inhabit my home’s realm,
But now the sacrifices which please you:
A contrite heart and a broken spirit You will not despise.
View my contrition now, oh God, as I ruthlessly die,
Happily constrained to be Your own.
Lord, help me die, taking the death You have offered instead of my own.
-Austin Ward
Take my ransomed, rugged soul
And transform me into something new.
Let me sing thy song daily
Of the day you saved this chilling corpse.
Bring forth thy light in my eyes, oh my God.
For they are welling with longing for thee!
Strength lacks the power within me,
But within thee, I am there alone filled.
Change my form within this brittle, sin-stained wineskin.
Mark me for thy kingdom there so I may not scorn thee then.
Be changed forever, oh my wretched soul,
By the God who now sets thy protesting heart free!
The weight of sorrows still seeks to bring me down,
But let none, let none see thy servant by thee drown!
Bitter toil and torment trouble me all the day,
But only with thee, my Lord, shall I in it stay.
Let my beggar’s heart find a generous king
Who sacrificed himself for the lowest filth.
Though vile and unworthy this breathing dust be,
Let thy grace, my God, Savior, be only found in thee.
May this drunkard soul of mine be not left to drown
In self-made pits of his old wine’s unfavorable course.
A new spirit altogether do I long for and stumble to find,
Thy holy Spirit indeed, my God, help my miserable way!
A harlot’s life have I lived, my own enemies within my bed.
Night after night, I’ve harbored the numbing betrayal
Of thy creation abused for sake of selfish pleasures enjoyed.
Lord, my Lord, forgive thy sluttish wife!
Cursed be the knife I’ve laid deep within thy martyr’s skin!
Laden now, thy blood on my hands, I can kill no more!
My hand needs cleaning from my strained murderous altar!
Cleanse, oh God, this killer of thy blessed works!
My thieving heart deserves no lot in the kingdom of my God,
For what could earn a peace which he, my God, afforded me?
The stolen glory, all vain, all mine, has gilded me in loudest shame.
Wash this hand, oh God, caught stealing thy royal crown.
-Austin Ward
I thought of something my dad said,
“I was smoking and drinking at your age.
Only by God’s grace I’m not dead.
You’re doing better than I was.”
If I had to do all over,
I’d do it like you are.
I’d be the best I could be.
I guess what I mean is, son,
You’re a better man than I am.
Well, my dad is no carpenter,
Nor does he have four years in post-grad school,
But he’s master of many trades,
Yet humbly, he is the Lord’s tool.
If I had to do all over,
I’d do it like you are.
I’d be the best I could be.
I guess what I mean is, son,
You’re a better man than I am.
Well, dad, you taught me what I know
About loving Jesus with all my heart,
And since you’ve taught me where to go,
I hope someday, I’ll be like you.
Since my whole life is before me,
I’ll do it like you are.
I’ll be the best I can be.
I guess what I mean is, dad,
You’re the best man I’ll ever know.
I can overlook your mistakes
Since you saw straight through all my childhood faults
Right to the man the Lord could make,
Purging me of my error’s claws.
Trailing behind the conversation line,
I wake my intellect to hear words change,
But I don't sit at windows, but tables arranged
Only to notice the topic and company are fine.
We drop our shoulders to the world for now,
Feasting on the jokes of our upcoming fear
Without sighing and drowning our brow
In our arms to let out a stream of tears.
Sorrows can't infect a night where we laugh
And trials can't undo the memories made,
But they give strength to our weaker half
While we make light of our phobias that fade.
Times with the people who once were strangers,
Dining and snacking on breakfast and lunch,
Take away the peril from approaching dangers
So that they really don't pack such a punch.
Our stress falls down like a feather
While we laugh at awkward silence,
But nothing else on earth could be better
Than sitting down with such bright friends.
-Austin Ward
9/17/06
I’ve given up on reflecting my own reflection.
I’m tired of pride and self-made rejection,
I’m tired of having this sin collection.
I forget the joy of resurrection,
I forget my purpose and direction.
I live with sin’s black infection,
I live without my heart’s inspection.
I must remember my protection
Does not depend on self-correction,
Nor depends on my connection,
But solely on my God’s affection.
I must remember my election
Came not from being man’s selection,
Nor came from my pride's detection,
But solely from my God’s affection.
I cannot stand on this sandy section,
But solely on my God’s affection.
I cannot stand in my perfection,
But solely in my God’s affection.
-Austin Ward
7/20/05
Dining room light with dimmest glow,
Tell me of the stories you know.
Remind me of our Christmas feast,
And of prayers of faith increased;
Tell me of guests who come and go,
Dining room light with dimmest glow.
Night after night you spend your light,
Guiding us through your room.
Dawn after dawn, you still go on,
Watching light o’erthrow gloom.
-Austin Ward
6/3/05
Who was looking for his life's happiness.
It was a long time ago.
He was in search of the golden taco.
He thought he'd find, somewhere he'd find
Some comfort for his heart and mind.
Our buddy's name is Rocko.
And he set out for the golden taco.
His journey showed him to a road
That might relieve him from his load.
So he started to walk-o,
Starting his quest for the golden taco.
He didn't know just where to go,
Or why he sought the treasure so,
And the village, they'd mock-o,
Yet he still sought out the golden taco.
Through wind and rain, he stood the pain
Of leaving all the his lifelong gain.
Over mountains high, valleys low,
His search went on for the golden taco.
Upon a whim, his trail brought him
To the house of the wise man Clem,
And on the door he had to knock-o,
He just had to find the golden taco.
The night grew cold, so Clem had told
Old Rocko where to find his gold.
So he sought that fateful dock-o
Where Clem said he'd find the golden taco.
He found water, and Clem's daughter,
He discovered that he sought her.
He and she began to talk-o.
He delayed finding the golden taco.
A strange feeling began reeling
As Rocko found himself kneeling
To ask her hand in wedlock-o!
Clem smiled and said, "There's the golden taco."
Well, she said yes, got in her dress,
What happened then, you might guess,
And then the years passed on the clock-o.
He found he still loved the golden taco.
May God make you rich like Rocko.
Don't forget who gave the golden taco.
-Austin Ward
8/1/05
That is the state of my sitting now.
Tested to worship with those whose eyes
Cannot see the time is short beneath these skies.
In Unity, o God, we must sing;
As one, our hearts we must bring.
Tested, o God, tested;
That is the state of my praising now.
Tested to worship with those whose minds
Cannot know the price they must pay till Christ finds
Our Unity, o God, has turned vain;
As one, our hearts all seem strained.
Tested, o God, tested;
That is the state of our worship now.
Tested to praise You with self-made worth.
Cannot my mind remove itself from this earth?
In Unity, o God, let me join
As one, though from diff'ring loins,
With those who praise in true
The true God, eternally You,
As now we break our tradition
To come to You in true contrition,
Before a Savior who has bought
And won after He and death fought
For our hopeless, unredemptive state.
Our God, You are truly great.
Tested, o God, tested;
That is the state of Unity now.
-Austin Ward
10/8/06
I can wear that spiritual garb,
But can I bear that cross?
Faking is not that hard,
Cause nobody acts lost.
Can I be real?
Am I so diluted
That in the smiles I deal
My heart goes unincluded?
Do I shame Christ?
Do the words that I speak
Look mismatched in my life?
Are my claims really that weak?
The spiritual strength I have craved
Seems like a mirage on the cross
'Cause no one acts saved
And nobody acts lost.
Am I wrong?
Then prove me wrong.
Please prove me wrong.
Prove me wrong,
'Cause who else will?
-Austin Ward
8/3/06
I don’t see how you see
So great a love in me,
To die knowing full well my faithless ways.
Can a harlot receive
Gifts greater than belief?
I’ve so little to return but my praise.
More evil men than I
Do not deserve to die
In all ways alone, death the bloody price,
Or maybe that is why
My Jesus had to die:
Man’s lethal need for such a sacrifice.
-Austin Ward
How can the heart of a filthy wretch
Be the throne of a perfect King?
How can this house of whores
Become the house of the Lord?
How can a broken man
Praise his Maker’s hand?
How can unclean lips meet
A perfect Savior’s perfect feet?
How can death-hindered man raise
Sin-laden arms in deepest of praise?
How can the Mighty Almighty,
That Warrior fighting,
Surrender to condescend
To man, to hinder his definite end?
Our Maker, our Master, our King,
Died to give us everything.
I don’t know these things, my Lord,
But I will worship, I will adore.
My heart of stone is on the floor.
Let me worship you a little more,
Just a little while more.
Slow down, my child.
You make too much haste.
Your heart’s gone wild,
There’s no time to waste.
Let me just be with you.
Leave that sacrifice alone.
There’s nothing left to do.
Your love for me is shown
In silence with me.
Don’t focus on the gift,
But on Who gave it to you.
Let your wand’ring eyes shift
To He who loves you true
From death’s lonely tree.
-Austin Ward
5/13/05
Serpent, I see thee now coiled,
Laying there for who thou art.
Fangs for me, thy plan spoiled,
For thou hast no power in my heart.
Thy persistence shall avail to naught,
For by Christ’s blood I am bought.
Snake of Eve’s first evil deed,
Thy venom no more infect
Or death in my veins breed,
For Jesus my heart doth now reflect.
Shame’s mask cannot cover transgressions,
So I choose Christ’s impressions.
Beneath His heel lay thy head;
I follow to crush thee, too.
God’s steps quell thy pow’r dead,
While daily I seek that strength anew.
I know thou wilt lay there, pow’rless snake,
Until I tomorrow wake,
Yet when my fading sun calls my day done,
I shall see thy life’s end come without contend,
While I to my Lord bow and return my vict’ries’ crowns.
-Austin Ward
For one man, it is a sin to preach,
For another, a sin not to make a speech.
For still another, a sin to sell stock,
For another, a sin to watch o’er a flock.
Masculinity in each man has a desire,
So do not burn it out, but feed that passion fire.
Every man has a duty to which he’s bound:
To make sure his passion in life is found.
He must ask himself what makes him alive.
He must then pursue it, and not deprive.
A deprived man will soon become depraved,
Like a lion caged, no longer able to do or crave.
His vigor gone, his heart is lost, a sad tale to tell.
So do not deny yourself what quickens your very soul,
Pursue your passion, live it out, find Christ, and be whole.
-Austin Ward
Thou snake, my serpent, beguiling me by my eyes,
Thou too shalt see thy death when looking to the skies.
That radiant bliss, all glorious and divine,
Thou shall not know, seller of the wine.
Drunken, I stumble to thee, asking for blunder.
Why do I do such foolish things, I wonder?
My hand reaches for that crimson cup,
But only venom do I feel, my blood corrupt.
The crafty caller of my misplaced desires
Has deceived me with soft-singing choirs,
Angelically playing those voices of light,
And I let the sirens sound and the serpent bite.
Why must thou plague me so,
Oh serpent of my woe?
Can tenderness be found in thee?
I dare not perceive it be.
Thy sole purpose is to drown my heart
By tainted fruits of the vines of earth,
Let nature see my Father’s worth
Who sent His Son to bruise the head
Of the creature who still would have me dead.
Serpent, thy weedish flower is withered,
So return to the place where thou once slithered.
Thy wine has no effect but disgust,
And thy venom only turns into dust.
I do not claim to understand His grace,
I simply know it is mine to fastly embrace.
So take thyself, bold serpent, back to the abyss,
For thou, such a traitorous one, I shall not miss.
-Austin Ward
You need a blood transfusion.
Mine’s the only one that will work.
Do you want it?
I gave it.
Just ask my father, your doctor.
Your blood has been poisoned,
But mine will renew it,
Restoring what you never had,
What you feel you’ve lost.
If you reject my blood,
You lose your life.
Please, you mean so much to me,
And just as much to my dad.
Take it before it’s too late.
I don’t care how tough it was to give,
I chose to give it,
I chose just for you.
Your receiving it won’t be as bad
As my giving it. I promise.
Come on. Don’t let the poison affect you.
The only way to feel better is to take my blood.
Please, you don’t have much longer.
Take my blood, my love.
-Austin Ward
5/24/05
I long to be a foolish one,
To see the mighty things of heaven done.
Can the Lord use a smart old guy like me?
I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
Some people’s minds lack the strength;
Some people’s arms lack the length,
But the Lord shows through them His power,
Which tends to make smart men sour,
But the Lord gives what they once lacked
And for the world, he makes an impact.
I long to be a foolish one,
To see the mighty realm of heaven come.
Can the Lord use a smart old guy like me?
I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
Some people have no degree,
Some people aren’t just like me,
My major in accomplishments,
But that’s not my confidence.
-Austin Ward
Vanishing, the stars rush away.
I watch their candor show their fear,
Terrified of light-time’s day,
So until it dies, they disappear.
Stars rush away, away they depart,
As do my thoughts while I dream at heart.
Arising, the fog’s gloom ascends.
I watch it find joy in the sky,
Not upset by night-time’s winds.
So until darkness again comes nigh,
Fog’s gloom ascends, ascends to the heights,
As I wait as well for sleeping nights.
Fading out, silence takes its bow.
I watch it hand the stage to morn,
Graciously waiting sleep’s brow,
So until life lays the day it’s borne.
The silence bows, bowing from night’s pride,
As day o’ertakes me all sleepy-eyed.
-Austin Ward
No remission for sins.
What gift-giving can sting more
With the sharp loss but no gain?
The death on the cross was not all that was mine,
But the cattle’s slaughter and the dove’s blood spill:
They belong to me, too.
The death of which I speak is not one, but two.
The first is the weight of all sin
Bringing the Father to crush me,
And what’s more, that it would please Him to do it.
The second is the whole history of the altar,
Its sacrifices and burnt offerings, innocent and cursed
By the knife of my sin’s lethal need for a perfect sacrifice
Through a God who is patient to love me so
While still my very life has earned His own full wrath.
God shedding His blood,
My remission for sins.
What gift-giving can sting more
With Messiah’s death but my life?
The death on the cross was not all that was mine,
But the Lamb’s slaughter and the wrath cup’s spill:
They belong to me, too.
The death of which I speak is Christ’s, paid and pardoned by my Judge.
I shed my unholy shell
Because I am bought.
Lambs and cattle no longer inhabit my home’s realm,
But now the sacrifices which please you:
A contrite heart and a broken spirit You will not despise.
View my contrition now, oh God, as I ruthlessly die,
Happily constrained to be Your own.
Lord, help me die, taking the death You have offered instead of my own.
-Austin Ward
Acknowledgement
You've paid my debt,
God of eternal worth,
And my cross you've wet
With your blood here on earth
So that I, a sinner yet,
Could see Thy praises' mirth.
You know me well,
From my inside and out,
And you've suffered hell
Answ'ring my teary shout,
So that Thou, the Life-filled Well,
Could quench my dead heart's drought.
-Austin Ward
Please Break My Heart
Why can’t you break my heart?
I barely know you, sir, how rude I would be!
Please, more rude would be to lead me on.
Why can’t you break my heart?
It would be shameful to hurt my new friend!
Pal, more shameful would be to lead me on.
Why can’t you break my heart?
I can’t hurt the man I love, tho both are sin!
Love, more sinful would be to lead me on.
Why can’t you break my heart?
Giving back your ring would hurt too deep!
Dear, more deep would be to lead me on.
Why can’t you break my heart?
Marriage vows cannot be broken after now!
Wife, more broken would be to lead me on.
Now mismatched, but married nonetheless,
A most rough terrain we must together progress.
Perhaps smoother the path is beyond,
But always the pain because you lead me on.
-Austin Ward
What The Unloved Say
Grace and peace aren't from people.
Joy and love aren't from the church steeple.
Comfort doesn't come through handshakes,
But a heart full of Jesus is what it takes.
Do you think you've got it, church man?
Do you think you're not running astray?
I think you better be safe and think again,
'Cause that's not what the unloved say.
Fire and brimstone can scare many,
Sugar-coating the gospel can draw pennies,
Should people come to grace through heat?
Should the bitter truth about man be made sweet?
Do you think you've got it, church man?
Do you think you're not running astray?
I think you'd better be safe and think again,
'Cause that's not what the unloved say.
Why do numbers surmount quality?
When did Jesus give us such frivolity?
When did a sales pitch become Christ?
Who cares while the numbers continue to rise?
It's nice of you to smile,
But that's just the first mile.
Maybe I'm just too vile.
Sorry I'm dressed like I'm poor,
I would have worn more,
But this is the best I can afford.
Why do you care about my clothes?
My heart is more important than those,
Or maybe now your real self shows.
I don't get it, pharisee.
Can't you quit judging me
Long enough to help me see?
I can't afford this church, church man,
'Cause I don't even get a first chance.
-Austin Ward
7/25/06
Pressing On
Glancing over my shoulder
To steps behind me, long past,
I realize things, now being older,
With regrets, my face downcast.
But for steps unstepped, for songs unsung,
For words unspoken, for deeds undone,
I’ll press on til tomorrow’s sun,
Til all this broken world is won.
But for lands untilled, for crop unsown,
For days yet to come, for fields unknown,
I’ll work until this crop is grown,
Til Christ is seen upon His throne.
But for oceans unsailed, for battles unfought,
For catches unweighed, for fish uncaught,
I’ll wander til my strength is naught,
Til all this world to Christ is brought.
-Austin Ward
To Be Your Blanket
How I wish I could be your blanket,
E’en if for a day, if we traded, how I’d thank it,
Just to be close, and keep you warm,
To help you feel protected in a thunderstorm,
To wrap you up and warm your very soul,
Once you’re asleep, hide you from the bitter cold,
To be near your heart as your glitt’ring eyes close,
Dreaming away of shining knight with shining pose,
While all the while, the knight of your heart’s demand
Dreams of being the blanket clasped in your hand.
-Austin Ward
Feb. 4, 2005
Organ in
Within this wall, my instrument lies in wait,
Lying desperately in its dormant state.
Skillfully wielded, I will sing to demonstrate
The glorious grandeur of my maker’s Maker,
My chords ringing forth to the mountain Breaker.
His light will be reflected in my shining vocals.
My wooden frame fitly flies in unity,
Needing the notes to give praise community.
Though mute alone, I know why here you’ve seated me:
To burst forth in silence as God did at creation!
To worship the Lord as God is my elation!
May my heav’n-reaching impugned whistles praise Him alway.
-Austin Ward
12/5/06
Creature
Oh miserable creature, o creature of doom,
Why do you sit and loom in your dark old tomb?
Riddles swiftly cross your double-crossed mind,
While deep down and behind, you are well-inclined
To remain in room, and with death’s plume,
Your life away signed, and soul to it bind.
Oh miserable creature, o creature, you fool,
Is your spirit so cruel to self-subject rule?
Sorrows still wander your still wandering soul,
But this painful death toll is worth your high goal,
The cross is your tool, your prize renewal
Of life become whole, and no dice to roll.
Oh miserable creature, o creature in me,
Tend to my desperate plea that begs you agree.
Leave me not silence in my silent vice,
Pain of no sacrifice but death to die twice.
I beseech you, see, your death must be,
For it is the price that was paid by Christ.
-Austin Ward
11/22/05
The Fullness of Sin
Those who know the full power of sin
Are the ones who stand and don't give in,
For they have braved the flood and waves,
Since they know and cry, "Jesus saves, Jesus saves."
Sin's mortal wounds that marred Christ's side
Leave all exposed and none to hide.
Those who know this full foul strength of sin
Are the ones who let no evil in,
Though still the invasion moves on,
Til Christ with wounded hands the victory won.
Darkness ought to fear His Name,
For Christ the Light, He took our blame.
He who knows the full malice of sin
Is the one who died to save all men,
Though perfect, yet man still is He,
We vile creatures were saved, by His blood made free.
Resistance to sin brought Christ's death,
Yet power more than sin gave breath.
-Austin Ward
8/28/06
Once More Be Woke
Oh wicked self, enslaved to sin,
How long shall thou be held within
Thy wretched flood of blood thine own?
Till thou shalt drown, no help, all alone?
No, my strength cannot be my release,
But God my Savior Himself shall appease
His laws which my drowning self broke,
So, soul, be thou once more woke
To a new way of being blind,
A new state, self, frame of mind.
The sentence alone could not drown,
Nor can words alone make more than sound.
Your life anew shall bring forth fruit
Fitting of your Savior who is your root.
Be now cleansed of all thy deeds,
Whose nature cannot simply secede,
But must be wholly dead by Christ’s own flood,
The waters which saved you, it is His blood.
-Austin Ward
No, By No Means, No!
Dare I let go of laughing at stupid things?
No, by no means, no! For there my sanity clings.
Dare I let darkness steal my joy of life's jokes?
No, by no means, no! That is for the hopeless folks.
Dare my jubilee be hung on sad gallows?
No, by no means, no! Christ saves me from such shallows.
© Austin Ward
10/12/06
