It is time for a longer verse
As the clouds in my mind get worse
Waiting for the rain to disperse
While saddled with a curse
Rhymes like this always seemed funny
Words laced with honey
With the grace of eggs, runny
Trying to make a sad song, sunny
It’s a joke, a disgrace
To assume a pace
Too quickly for a race
Too fragile a base
For a masterpiece takes love
Each stroke a mourning dove
A wake up call from above
To love…
To accept the challenges met
And those we haven’t, yet
To embrace the changes
Because they come
Ready or not, they’re here.
It’s nothing to fear, they said
As we looked unbelieving
Incapable of conceiving,
Of believing who we are…
Really
Not the clothes or the status
They say nothing about us
Truly.
For even the lowliest scum
Or flea-bitten bum can dream.
Moonlit Poetry 