Potiphar’s Wife
The day began as, on the whole, they do.
Arising while the morn still clung to night,
he sought his Father’s wisdom for the day
in open Bible and on bended knee,
then kissed his sleeping wife and left for work.
Far more than just a job, with hand and heart
he labored joyfully and shared a smile
with everyone he met. Then, toiling done,
he headed home to shower, eat, and rest.
As man and wife retired to den to rest,
he listened to her rant with half a smile.
Apparently, while he was gone to work,
she suffered a most miserable day,
for everything that she had tried to do
had failed and dimmed her mood to dark of night.
He rose, and with a hand upon her knee,
“I love you, dear,” he said, “with all my heart,
good night. With your complaining I am done.”
His weary climb upstairs was not yet done
when a knock upon the door jolted his heart.
He turned around and forced his aching knees
to take him down again. “This time of night
who’s coming to disturb our evening rest?”
The opened door revealed a man from work,
his wife beside him. “We have come today
to seek your help.” “Whatever I can do.”
But what they stated next erased his smile.
He saw his visitors suppress a smile
as quickly they sat down and got to work:
“For years now I’ve been plagued with troubled rest,”
the wife began to say. “How could you do
such wretched things and think, when all was done,
that they would never see the light of day?
You broke my heart, and now, this very night,
I’m breaking yours, like twigs across my knee.”
Our friend sat stunned, pain rising in his heart.
She further said, “You only touched my heart,
admittedly, and steered clear of the rest,
but with your texts you always made me smile.
I hoped by now your marriage would be done,
and you and I could have our wedding day.”
The silent spouses trembled at the knee—
a nervous tick from one— “Oh, what to do?”
the other thought. “We will not sleep tonight,
that much is sure. Our marriage needs much work!”
When morning came, he had no heart to work;
his wife was his priority today.
Together asking God what they should do,
they wept, embraced, and prayed for peace and rest.
Forgiving and forgiven, from that night
their marriage grew more strong, for what was done
was done, and served to further knit their hearts.
A warm embrace, a kiss, on each a smile
when they arose from prayer on humbled knee.
Each day they two together bowed the knee
and praised the Lord for great things He has done;
and after work they ushered in the night
with acts of love expressed from heart to heart.
At work she called him daily, made him smile
and welcomed him when he came home to rest.
This humble man, more meek for what was done,
rejoiced in God to see His mighty work
on their behalf. Faith grew from day to day.
About the time he thought night turned to day,
more trouble came that cast him to his knees.
Enraged to see her vicious work undone,
she tried again to wipe away his smile.
This time she cut the poor man to the heart
with public charge of things he did not do.
She played on others’ sympathy. It worked.
For weeks now it’s been hard for him to rest;
arresting terrors haunt him day and night.
He seeks his Father’s wisdom for the night.
The web she wove one day will be undone.
A cardiologist attends his heart,
and there are days when he’s too weak to work.
Yet with open Bible and on bended knee,
he feels the peace of God restore his smile.
When evening comes, clean conscience bids him rest.
He prays, “The truth will set me free some day.
Lord, quickly do what only You can do!
“I do believe that on my knees through teary smile,
I’ll brave the night, endure the work that she has done,
and someday soon my troubled heart will know sweet rest.”
Copyright © 2023 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved
Welcome to my series, Incremental Poetry, where each poem is one line longer that came before. I have no idea how long I’ll keep this up, so we’ll just have to wait and see. Thank you for stopping by.
Scansion:
Novina
patterned after the Sestina, but based on the nonostich rather than the sestet
Metered: iambic pentameter (uS / uS / uS / uS / uS)
[S = stressed syllable, u = unstressed syllable]
Lexical repetition instead of rhyme
Concludes with a 3-line envoy that utilizes all 9 end words
End-word pattern: 123456789, 975312468, 864295317, 759183246,
697834125, 531928674, 412679853, 348761592, 286547931,
Envoy: 1-4-7, 2-5-8, 3-6-9
Note: The envoy may employ lines longer than a pentameter. This one is in iambic hexameter (6 iambic feet).
About the poem: This poem is based on a true story that has no ending as yet, so I will say no more about it. But I will say this: Women who attack men out of revenge when those men refuse to be seduced make it very hard for innocent women who have genuinely been molested to seek and find justice. This woman will lose, not only because she’s lying, but also because there is overwhelming evidence to prove it. She has dragged this man’s name through the mud, and he may never fully recover from that, even if he is vindicated in court (if it gets that far). And after that, she is putting him in a tight spot. Should he sue her for defamation or forgive her and let God be his defense?
What would you do if it were you? if it were your husband?
Dark Side of the Moon 