My Guardian,

Hold my hand lest, over-timid,

I should flee so great a Sovereignty.

Prick my heart lest, too familiar,

I insult so great a Clemency.

Fix my eyes lest, too distracted,

I grow blind to such a Majesty.

Move my tongue lest, too lethargic,

I neglect such opportunity.

© 2001 by Paul Thigpen