Clearly, we are not… all selfish to the bone.

Order – comes from chaos… with a generous tone.

Maybe some are hopeless… having nothing left.

Perhaps that’s why they’re selfish…utterly bereft.

Anyway, who cares…who has the time to spare.

Save for those do-gooders…hoping over there.

Say whatever you like, the writing has it clear.

Indolent, greedy people are causing hate and fear.

Only you can stop this happening, perhaps this is the time.

Now or never baby, compassion is no crime.

Forever sounds so infinite, eternity too long.

All the words we have will be used up in their song.

In hope we all can prosper, in joy, we like to grow.

These are the truths we hope for, praying all night long.

Have you heard the Nightingale? No words to its sweet song?

We look up to the stars as they catch us by surprise.

Oh! how we see them in each other’s eyes!

Noting all their splendour as they dance across the sky.

Deciphering their meaning at least we do but try.

Each star fills us with gratitude for eyes to see their grace.

Remember as you think of this, the wonder on your face.

 

 

© The Secret Poetess, December 2016

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