Perplexed In the Pew (More Pew Poetry)

I got up late that morning, hit snooze once too often,
I didn't heed the warning, the loud buzz I had to soften.

So I rushed through my routine, showered, shaved, and dressed,
Skipped the usual caffiene, no time, and I was already stressed.

My cheeks settled into a pew, as the pastor spoke the invocation,
The service sailed on through, then came time for my donation.

Had I arisen early, and taken the proper care,
In my pocket most surely, an offering would be there.

But alas in my haste, the offering was left in my till,
I had not even placed, in my wallet a single bill.

I looked around my seat, could I borrow from a friend?
But wanting to be discreet, I couldn't ask them to lend.

The collection plate was coming, what was I to do?
Hand in pocket simply thumbing, a DIME, no its TWO!

Two coins o so tiny, would they be enough?
dingy, not new and shiny, still God would not rebuff.

So into the plate they clinked, pastor's eyes caught mine and tensed,
I could tell by the way he blinked, he had seen my mere 20 cents.

OH of all the days, for my morning routine to have been breached,
I could feel the pastor's gaze, on stewardship he had just preached!