Wednesday Evening 9pm ©
By
Michael Casey
Apologies to Simon and Garfunkel fans but I
could not think what to call this piece, so I looked at the clock and then at
the wall calendar, and that’s how I titled this piece. I’ve had a quiet day, I
stumbled over something and I could end up making a new friend, he’s in a Blues
Band, but somehow I think not. I may put Celine Dion’s song on, where she sings
in French, Le Blues du Businessman I love that song, join in everybody, I want
to be an Artist, but in French.
As usual what has that got to do with
anything? I thought this morning I might write something, nice, a poem perhaps.
I was thinking how can you describe a Mother’s Love, or All Our Mother’s Love.
I had a line or two in my head, and I was thinking how best to put it on paper.
Poems are like feathers, you have to coax them, to blow them onto the page, to
gently blow them into position. They are like the toddler walking in the street
with mum or grandpa, you have to guard they don’t walk into the road, training
straps are far safer, but like a poem you have to be ever so gentle, or you
will hurt the toddler. And so it is with a poem, it’s like directing a bubble,
if you poke it then it bursts, shattering like an egg yolk for morning
breakfast.
Where there is anger, let there be love.
Where there are lies, let there be light.
Where there are tears, let the dawn of
smiles break through.
Where hearts are broken, let them be
mended by kindness.
Where fear has taken over, let laugher
ring out again.
Where clouds hang forever, let the swings
of love disperse sadness.
Where there is doubt, let a mother’s
certainty ring and shout out.
Where confidence is lost, let a dad’s strength
hold out a hand of love.
Where strength has failed, let a grandpa’s
never-ending hope strengthen us.
When all is lost, refuse to die, refuse to
give up, refuse refuse refuse
For when all is lost, when family is not
enough we still have friends
For when the dice is loaded against us and
they divide our clothes.
We still Prayer, we have more friends in
very high places indeed.
For we have a friend in the highest place
of all, In God We Trust.
*****
Well that’s the best I could come up with
in my hour at the keyboard, I hope my new friend in the Blues Band sees this,
he could put it to music, he’s not very busy nowadays. And with that I’ll quit
while I’m ahead,
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