Worthless, crumpled little leaf—
Cast off without a care;
Set upon the listless wind,
Carried here and there.
You’re not but nature’s clutter
To disgrace a pristine lawn;
The only want we give you
Is we want you good and gone!
And the Lord within the Manor
Sees you only as a chore;
He’ll have to rake and bag you
Which is irksome all the more.
There’s a tale of a mother who lived in a shoe,
When faced with a challenge knew not what to do.
So the family had dinner without any bread—
Then she spanked all her children and sent them to bed!
Why we rehearse this nobody knows,
So let’s faithen the story and see how it goes. . . .
Don’t give up. Photo by Gabriela Palai.
As you walk the lonely road. . .
Mile after mile
Without expected blessing,
This may be your trial.
But if you’ve done what you can
And still must wait awhile;
Don’t give up my faithful friend—
Delay is not denial.
Author’s Note: To be clear, I do not think that the current difficulties we are facing signify the end of the world! However, the disruption to normal life caused me to remember these thoughts I jotted down a couple of years ago. Though at first this poem may seem disheartening, at a time when many things seem out of our control, what is in our control is who we become. And that is encouraging indeed.
How will it be when it ends,
When it ends . . .
How will it be when it ends—
When Hell is unleashed and with murder contends;
How will it be when it ends?
Once Upon A Rhyme 