A little wine and we shall all be dead
None shall be spared: bring your last breath
And when we're done, you may retire to bed
For none which we say here has never been said
So remember: Not all things feared are dread
But tonight, the purpose, our purpose for which we gather here
The communion, our union, a year added to her birth
A cause to thank, celebrate; greater things yet to be heard
The blood and mind to this day we hug with her
The labour and sufferance which we all bear
To the gaiety and happiness we all share
Then our bye to embrace our waiting bed.
If and when we would decide to read poetry or a piece of discerning article a day, our world is, then headed for a change. No magic potion whatsoever: if there were, politicians would have used it a long time ago. Our mind is all that we have; the only exception to tricks of all corners and angles. Enjoy the luxury and peace of poetry...
1 comment:
Hello,
I've just found your blog and I must tell you I'm really impressed!! Can't wait to read all of your poems :)
Keep on writting!! :))
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Sona
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