Oh would that I’d not
Go knocking on wood
It won’t botch the bad as I’d thought that it could
But I’ll knock by much prayer on the Wood of the Cross
That Door through which passes all good

When stuck, I would cross
My fingers for luck
No dice! Luck is rarely “a lady tonight” *
So I’ll cross myself slowly with quick-rising trust
Since luck ain’t got nothin’ on Christ

Each Friday the 13th
My heart would grow cold
Expecting an unlucky day to unfold
But now I see Fridays as gold, and can’t wait
The day death and Satan lost hold

I’d used to rough-mumble
My prayers without care
To force the Lord’s hand in each plan or affair
But then I read, “Abba, not my will, but Thine”

Aware now…

From where came…

Such fair words…

I echo His prayer

*****

*Guys and Dolls, musical – Rodgers and Hammerstein