For nougth but day, the light doth shine;
Stars move in easy pace, to spaces bound;
Look not toward heaven, with sad divine;
Within the mind, there dwells, honed report;
Thy heart, cherubic as the light doth shine;
In this, the transience of mortal blight
Why searcheth far away, to places not of thine;
Here now he dwells , while amongst as afar;
A wasteful effort, an insult, the searching
tine;
The wild daisy thrives in heat and wind,
Generous charity, for the light doth shine.
Munificence: a Fold © gillena cox 2015
[first posted
HERE ]
