Isaiah 38-39 sonnet

Oh woe is me; I'm at the point of death.
Isaiah's here; he says to sort my things.
I will not heal; there is not much time left.
It's heavy news for mighty Zion's king.

I'll pray Yahweh relieves this time of strife.
Isaiah's back with news from my appeal:
For fifteen years I will be spared my life.
The sun goes back ten steps to show the deal.

When I fell ill I was in quite the slump.
I knew my days were numbered in this world.
Isaiah came with figs to heal my bump.
I will be saved, play music to the LORD.

Hey look, the prince has blessed my newfound health!
I'll give a tour and show off all the wealth.

1 comment:

  1. nice (though "world" and "LORD" are a bit of a stretch :-)