ivor .e hogg - Guarantee

The monk was old, infirm and ill.
He could no longer guide the quill
across the parchment fluidly.
His eyes grown weak he cannot see.
To choose the colours he must use
to decorate the curlicues.
Carefully drawn to illustrate his
script but he accepts his fate.
For sixty years he’s served the Lord.
The time has come for his reward
Patiently he’s waiting for his call.
He’ll go with no regrets at all.
The faith on which this monk relies
is his passport to paradise.

31-Jan-07

ivor .e hogg

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