Sunday Sonnet!

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When to the distant Past my thoughts I turn,
Some counsel for the Present there to find,
Embers of rich experience brightly burn,
Irradiating warmth of Welcome, kind;
Too seldom do we access lessons taught
By error-stricken actions come to grief,
Until, perchance, in life we’re left distraught,
Appealing to what’s gone to seek relief;
Not only is the Past a burial ground,
Where hurtful, dark encounters are interred,
Nuggets of counsel, wise, oft there are found,
Awaiting on someone to be conferred.
Leave not untended what is gone before,
There, wisdom pearls aplenty lie in store.

© Meanderings 2018

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