Poem: TROUBLE

You may traverse the world both far and wide.

Yet ever doth misfortune linger at thy side.

Through roaming winds may scatter fate’s own dust.

In steadfast shadow, trouble maketh its trust.

No measured art can sway its grim advance;

Though thou expend thy strength in vain resistance.

It lingers like a wayward child in play—

Persisting in the dimming light of day.

Misery assumes a thousand mournful forms.

The bitter sting of heart and grief that storms,

The cruel hand of sickness and of Death,

And loss profound that numbs the very breath.

So heavy is its yoke that brings thee low,

That on thy knees thou humbly dust bestow

Thy earnest prayers unto the Lord above—

In faith, entreating solace, hope, and love.

Fixed in thy trust, thy spirit finds its guide.

For only God can lift the dreaded tide.

Dorothy Dempsey is a senior citizen who loves to write. She thanks God for allowing her to share this gift through published articles in the St. Louis American, St. Louis Post Dispatch, Belleville News, St. Louis Catholic Review, and in various books.

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