Pew Poetry ~ Hymnody

Hymnody
The organist grinds out the intro, and I draw in a breath
The congregation sings out the hymn, but my voice sounds worse than death.

Oh how thankful I am, that those near me can keep their poise,
As I now just how grating, is the sound of my "joyful noise"

I can see those behind me, yanking on my invisible bridle
It's like being judged by Simon, if I were on American Idol

But on I go singing out, even though I stink,
My wife suggests that perhaps I should try to lip sync

But in the end it is the words, the message that I bellow
That to God's ears has the sound as beautiful as a cello

So there I'll be every week, standing in my pew,
Contributing to the hymnody and giving God his due.