The Guest

To what did I owe the pleasure Of the visit of such a stature As I am much of a lost I've taken the liberty of the most I have not one but many of a question For what lingers in me is a wondering passion And as I burn in the silence of the passing breeze I echo the songs of the dancing leaves So to what did I owe the pleasure Of the visit of such an esteemed stature For many has begged and cried for you As many as the sweet morning dew And has it not been sublime You spoke not a word yet you brought the ripples of time And as you have come as a wondering guest I came to embrace the gift of such a bequest January 29, 2025