Lone Hand

When I look at the cards
Life has dealt to me
They're a pretty poor hand,
It seems.
For my memories
Have left my mind
Full of nightmares
Instead of sweet dreams.

Yet the gambling instinct
Inside of me
Is determined
At all costs to win;
But time and again
I find myself euchred
By so much temptation
And sin.

The black knave of guilt
Keeps staring at me
And the leer on his face
I can't stand;
Yet every time
I start a new game,
I insist I can play
A Lone Hand.

But this time, Jesus,
I'm looking to You,
For You have the Lone Hand,
Not me;
And if I am willing,
We both shall win -
When You're playing Partners
With me!

Honoria A. Groves