Glory be to God for mundane things

I’m gradually getting round to typing up some of the poemy prayery scribbly things I’ve written for morning briefing in school over the years. Here’s one (with an embarrassed nod to Gerard Manley Hopkins):

Glory be to God for mundane things:
For skies of cast-iron grey; for nil-nil draws;
For lukewarm lunches eaten on the hoof;
For jokes that make you smile, a bit; for bores
Who mean well; and for wedding rings
That won’t come off; rain dripping from a roof.

Exalt, if you will, those who cannot think
Quite what to put on their CV; and praise
That bit of flat land near the sea.
Regard the unlooked at picture, and then raise
A glass and drink a toast to your kitchen sink;
Divine the divine in a song in minor key.

Praise God for mangers, mustard seeds, and spit;
For sycamore trees, Samaritans, and salt;
For water, wine and vinegar; for blood;
For pilgrimage, but mostly for a halt
Along the way. Thank God for making it
To this new day. That’s quite enough. That’s good.