Glass half full
Here in the sleepy backwaters,
I am seeing folk who smile.
What a joy I may say,
To feel so welcomed, so at ease.
They have clearly lived forever,
My eyes receive this power.
Despite the mobility of age,
And the pain that gives ill.
I haven’t heard the moaning,
Of much younger whining kids.
It was different in their day,
What a pity we cannot know.
Because it helped to promote,
A self awareness long since lost.
But maybe, just possibly,
With a timely reflective gaze.
We shall all know how,
Their glass is always half full.
No comments:
Post a Comment