Just when I'd thought of giving in,
of raising high that old white flag,
the prospect I could never win,
now too far gone to start again,
with losses piled high in the bag;

there came a call so clearly mine,
that I could not ignore its tone.
As shivers traveled down my spine,
this message sent in love divine,
was meant for only me, alone.

While dangling from the barest thread
still hanging on with knuckles white,
my strength, in ounces, sapped and shed,
all hope seemed bleak, the outlook dead,
until God spoke to my delight.

"Fear not, my child, for I AM near.
I AM not far. Do not despair.
If storms clouds shroud the way that's clear,
I'll come for you. So do not fear.
I shall not leave you stranded there."

Just when I thought I'd lost the fight,
when I was certain it was through;
as darkness must give way to light,
God heard my cry and saw my plight,
and gave me hope, when he sent you.


The Gadfly
(copyright 2008, Gregory Allen Doyle)