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Speak to me gently when Life’s Light burns low
And hope of new tomorrows starts to fade,
I cannot bear to hear, ‘I told you so’,
Much less to have another me upbraid;
No need past failings, oversights recount,
Nor nourish feelings fountain of regret;
Too easily fine words concern discount,
Impeding gallant efforts to forget;
Much rather proffer understanding care,
By far more wholesome than disabling scorn,
Aware that none escape the tempter’s snare,
And all are left with misconduct to mourn!
That mortals, sans exception may feel free,
Speak gently, always, to yourself and me!
©Meanderings 2017
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Autumn Ambles 