In Shade I Sit

I sit in shade upon my porch to gaze at men who travel by. Before my house, they set a course, humanity in every size. As some men walk ill to their core with their souls glued to this road, they search with lighten load as for a tripping rock or shallow hole. I think such men seldom stumble. They crawl before they trip and fall. Pious to fault yet not humble; not to acknowledge me at all. Yet other men a faster pace with heads that rise at running stride; wth open eyes pride face, they race a fixed cold mind on their prize. They never turn their heads to see beauty growing beside this road bestowing malice eagerly they never slow or say hello. Less men walk at an honest rate with raven eye to see my shade to par a grade with time to wait to smile at me or stop and wave. So few men care to take a turn to cross my gate, stride up my walk to find my shade and show concern to sit and talk and share a thought. With seldom blessed brother's touch in which I find rare pleasures great I share their fate and loving clutch with treasure of unmeasured state. I find in you an honest wit and thankful for your company. Upon my porch in shade I sit I watch His world unfold for me.