The Voice
Give me the hardy breed that thrives in the arid wild
The tougher kind that walks with a sure unfaltering stride,
The restless heart that without fear the mountains roams;
Not the sissy softer variety that favors the mushy loams.
I need those manly swines with sun-burned sinew
Not the convenience-seeking boys stained with dew,
I reward the uncertain gambling of the wandering type
Not the sure stocks invested with opportunistic hype.
I have been here for years but a generation comes and goes
And yet some think they can predict me with their fake laws,
I read the speculative greed of fellows from a safe mile away
For my expansive experience spans a million years and a day.
I pick a man of valor from the faking crowds,
In his quiet among the city’s clambering sounds;
None can ever cheat my heart-scanning eye that sees
Beyond the snow-capped peaks and the roaring seas.
And my ears are ever un-waxed to listen
To the crackling labors of any gifted pen
That scribbles this account of my fickle nature
So men may know the traits that give me pleasure.
Copyright © Hannington Mumo | Year Posted 2015
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