Circumstances

Circumstances Poem Lionel Derbyshire Circumstances leaves you few A chances. No nick, no pick, no give me more. Just a little sauce. No custard tart. You in shoestring circumstance It's rough-and-tumble In the orphan grumble. All I can stitch together in memory is my big toe sticking out from my small blanket. But kismet! for that umbrella blanket I did not even own every night. And yet civil I slept every night on a bed happy with the circumstance .. My head had cover. On that pillow I toss my lot on better day's of Mom's return, the night candle burns and those dreams fade. For hour's I watched my all I got skew silhouette portrait of Stonehege on the wall which read contentment to me. My Ebenezer .. my stone of help Thankful I was for a bed I could stretch out on which creaked the whole night on three legs. And as I exodus up in the morning I was somewhat creased, twisted and curved. The day which followed the previous night was a pillow and blanket granted to the next orphan. The next night I was on the floor. We were always down to one, one dab of mouthwash. I hoped to sleep longer one big toe out .. Not enough blanket. Why nothing was ever made to fit I'll never know. But I ease, repose and accept the best of my circumstance. Now at my 88 outlast I still reminisce and loved that grey orphanage Santa Maria called where pea soup with sour bread sustained, gladdened and fattened us. A place for the orphan conceived with no options .. there be no family photo's. Nice food we never had so we orphan friend's tagged each other with food nick tags We were ... Pecan Nut, Bully Beef, King Cabbage, Long Egg and Hot Dog. And every night Mother Abbess nourished us in prayer thankful to our Father who art in heaven. And never were we disparaged unhappy by circumstance. Hate never had a home. Our heart's were sport and We did not sob. Mother's never came to fetch us and Father's went straight to hell we guessed and that is where tether ended. And in our struggle gamble Sister Amber, the vein of our hearts Would sing her waif song for We the have-not's Our lambent hearts will glow in the dark.. Our backbones stand bold We fundamental grow We be mindful and respectful These circumstances we bare They thought we were slob and rubbish. Here at Santa Maria they abandoned us Leaving us lone and vanished unknown Gone they ran away. Ballyhoo they never knew.. The diamonds they threw away We prayed Our Father Who art in heaven .. And our circumstances hallowed.