My Cranky Self

I grumble in the morning, “There’s so much to do,
It’s my turn to do dishes, why couldn’t it be you?”
T he baby is sick with a fever you say;
There goes my hopes of sewing today.
Don’t touch me, don’t bump, I already said “No,
I’m not gonna help you if you’re so slow.”
I complain and I grumble, ‘til I’m all tied in knots.
I’ve been disrespectful to mom, and cross with the tots.

At night when upon my bed I lay
I feel very miserable as I think of my day.
“I’m awfully terrible,” I tell myself with a groan,
Where is the good example that I should have shown.
In my dreams I’m so often lovely and sweet;
I imagine myself blessing those whom I meet.
I picture myself a kindhearted girl,
Singing and cleaning ‘til my head’s in a swirl,
Rocking baby brother who’s teething and sick;
Laughing along with an annoying trick.

But I’ve been thinking, and come to a conclusion;
To think good works “happen” is just a delusion.
It takes time with God, reading and praying,
And with a tender heart, His will obeying.
And suddenly a flame in your heart will spark,
Glowing from within, it shatters the dark.
No longer need I be a sweet girl in my “dream”;
I can be the real thing, a cheerful sunbeam.