What these signify, no-one can say.

The blind may dream in colours, wild and gay.
They see snow red as blood and sun at prayer.
What these signify, no-one should say.

The sighted may have dreams so drab and grey
Which we uncover listlessly by layer
The blind may dream in colours, wild and fey.

For our sustenance, the soul makes pay
With hope and charity, we sooth the sayer.
What life signifies, no-one must say.

The adverts tell us  women like Milk Tray
Impertinent to  analyse, to dare,
The kind may see  flames colour  in the fray

You cannot buy the best life on Ebay
Some  find the narrow path  of goodness is bizarre
What life signifies, no-one must say.

We find vocation living where we are.
The soil  ,though rough, can grow its flowery stars
The blind may dream in colours, soft and fair
The love of truth is found  through wordless prayer

 

 

Advertisements

About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
This entry was posted in Thinkings and poems. Bookmark the permalink.