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In desolation of the darkest night,
Attended by the emptiness of hope,
When solace harbingers have taken flight,
How are forsaken creatures meant to cope?
I passed a homeless lady on my walk,
Along the seaside promenade she sat,
Forlorn, on bench, inclined with none to talk,
Must shelter be her fated habitat?
Surrounded by her meager earthly wares,
Exposed to whims of Nature’s weather gods,
Will someone ever deign to tend her cares,
Perchance, among her fellow human bods?
What hankers in her soul no one can tell,
My heart bleeds prayers her future to be well!
©Meanderings 2018
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Autumn Ambles 