Sunday Sonnet!

Not for the lack of patent wherewithal,
Nor for the want of vocal calls for care,
Indifferent man continues to appal,
Persisting to espouse the lion’s share;
No matter that a surfeit to the soul
Encumbers, even at the point of death,
Or sharing with the needy would console,
Cupidity enslaves to final breath;
Rapacious tentacles embrace the heart,
Denuding it of vestiges of life;
Compassionless awaiting to depart,
Perchance the destiny to be sans strife.
Not for the sake of human decency,
But for yourself aspire to equity!

©Meanderings 2016

Septolet #3

Disabling Age,
Disregarding personal position,
Benignly,
Smiles On Vanity;

Humility,
Graciously embraces,
Advancing years.

©Meanderings 2016

Sunday Sonnet #2

Ask not how deep the selflessness of Love
Needs be, to service human brokenness,
When we perceive clear images thereof
Apparent in young children dead, no less;
Pre-occupation with one’s personal need
Can blind one to the faces of despair,
Reclining in the warm embrace of greed,
Unable or unwilling aught to share;
How strange the native instinct to survive
Persists with not an inkling to relent,
Intent on keeping hapless souls alive,
Until the dregs of energy are spent.
For some would end their lives under a stack,
While others cease to be because of lack!

©Meanderings 2016

Lest We Forget….Sonnet!

Consistent Time unhurried wends his way,
While Homo sapiens in haste proceed,
For one the cycle’s ever here to stay,
The other will its journey end indeed.
No mortal can this system overthrow,
Nor can the final passage he suspend;
‘Tis easier all hurry to forego,
Thereby his present tenure to extend;
Each season brings its bloom and blush in time
Embracing any untoward with grace;
In all the heart of Nature beats sublime,
Even in those who wear no human face.
The treasure of each life in gilt engrave,
Lest we forget all end up in the grave.

©Meanderings 2016

Firstborn….

Intrusion…..

Prospective parents of a first born child,
Must know their future lives shall be restyled,
The Two will soon be Three,
Adjustments to agree,
Some precious past-times have to be exiled!

© Meanderings 2015