History Rhymes
O, but that the Master Poet would grant this rhyming couplet.
That we could bind the wounds of this broken heart
Wherein the beat of freedom and equality grows weak,
Enabling the meek, indeed to inherit what your love bestows
To all your children squabbling, silent, frightened, or benumbed
By prospect daunting or emboldened, lost among the ruin.
Children are resilient. And may we laugh again and play,
And build those castles, sand or stone, that time will surely wash asunder.
Still having made their purpose known to those whose matter waits
Upon that moving finger weaving time in writing what outlives the Fates.
Copyright © John Stetson | Year Posted 2025
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