IT’S HARD TO CHOOSE

I must have about eight or nine and a special day,
I counted all my money I’d put safely away,
Dad said he would give me the amount that I had
Maybe enough to buy an old bike, I was so glad.
Off to the secondhand store where old bikes were sold,
There were three in the right price range I was told,
Which one was just for me? “Take your time dear,”
The storekeeper kindly said as he pushed the bikes near.
The red one with the shiny bell, the pink one may be too small,
The green one with the new light in front, I liked them all.
The red one was my choice though I wasn’t really sure,
The man said, I could not swop it, as I went through the door.
It did not matter about the choice of my first bike,
But important things matter, not doing what you like
But do what you should, have someone guide you to choose,
Or through wrong choices we never know what we may loose.
So keep the Lord close by you, so he may whisper in your ear,
Listen to that voice and your choice will always be clear.

M Ann Margetson © March 20, 2001

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