The Book

The Book How good the night that darkens so To guide me to my rest. Where a favored Book lights up my eyes As I nestle to my nest. A few pages turned to praise the Lord Seems too little price to pay... For the gifts that have been measured To get me through the day. The End Kindness Kindness is a treasure map To seek those who cannot stand. Easing the afflictions they may suffer At the wrath of idle hands. The End Friendship True friendship must be cultivated Like the furrows of the spring. Its scarcity breeds some to panic... Not sure what the harvest brings. But to those who possess the fortitude To palpate the earth between their toes And with untiring hands... work the soil... From such labor... friendship grows. The End Rocks I've heard it many times before... Peace is close at hand. But vile vermin are fleet of foot With eyes upon my land. Is something wrong with what they have? Have they rocks that shan't compete. So they shoot and stab and maim and kill... For the rocks beneath my feet. The End Selfishness To what culmination do we dither As we traverse these troubled shores? But to make merry our fellow travelers With good neighborly rapport. But to those who bask in selfishness And would obfuscate some future tense... If we embrace such vile pettiness... The world makes little sense. The End Procrastination I was intent to slay a dragon... Something massive to its size. Where glory would be raised in song At the word of its demise. But the weather's rather chilly And tomorrow lies ahead. Procrastination is the blanket... That binds me to my bed. The End Good Fortune Good fortune seems a blessing... It brings everything we need Except those from the depths of Hell... Who upon us...start to feed. But alas... Good fortune has a shelf life And rarely sees the end of day. But cements a second blessing... As the parasites drift away. The End Time Time is quite the withered grape That grows sour on the vine. Its abundance... a mirage of sorts To keep the dregs in line. Was the Singer of this merry tune Fallacious to our ways? With the morrow now in short supply... I will live today. The End Treasure Take stock of gifts received... Tis meat upon the bone. There is no grander treasure... Than a child who waits at home. Children bring ripeness to our journey That makes bold our cherished bliss. But to those who walk the road alone... You know not what you miss. The End